


Detectives Pond and Oswald

by lma88



Category: Broadchurch, Doctor Who
Genre: Alternate Universe, Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 25,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2848040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lma88/pseuds/lma88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rough around the edges D.I. Amelia Pond gets a new job at the police offices at Broadchurch and rubs the sweet small town Clara Oswald the wrong way. Along with the town's local vicar, who Pond suspects is hiding something about the recent death of a local boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How Many Murders Have You Worked On?

Detective Inspector Amelia Pond walked down the beach towards the small body lying in the sand. "Don't do this to me again." She prayed under her breath. She turned to see a woman running towards the scene. "This area is off limits!" She blocked her off.

"I'm police!" D.S. Oswald displayed her badge. Her eyes widened at the sight of the body. "I know him. He's my boy's best friend. God, Beth! Does beth know?"

"Calm down D.S. Oswald." Pond took hold of Clara's hands.

"You don't understand! I know that boy!" Oswald couldn't hold back her tears any longer.

"Shut it off and be a professional!" Amelia yelled. "You're working a case now!"

"Shut it off?!" Clara took a step back away from Pond's reach as if disgusted by her cold and clinical attitude.

"Amelia Pond" She extended her hand towards her colleague.

"I know who you are. You took my job." Clara replied.

"Oh, are we really going to do this now?" Amelia Pond looked Clara up and down with her hand on her hips.

"You don't even know who he is!" Clara gasped for breath through tears.

"Then tell me!" Amelia had zero patience for her new partner's emotional sensitivity.

"Daniel Latimer, age 11. He goes to school with my son, Tom." Clara wiped the tears from her cheeks.

Amelia looked up at the cliff face in front of them. "Is this a suicide spot?"

"He wouldn't do that." Clara replied.

"Just answer the question!" Amelia shot back.

"No." Clara whispered angrily. She'd not only lost the job she'd wanted but it had been given to the most heartless woman she'd ever had the displeasure to meet.

Pond had a harsh tongue as fiery as her red hair. But there was no discernible warmth about her whatsoever, she was a stone-cold pragmatist. She was beautiful but untouchable, like a wild rose covered in thorns.

Clara was soft. She believed in kindness and the goodness of people. Even as much as D.I. Pond had angered her by her coldness, she wished to get closer to her. There had to be something good inside her. At the same time, Clara wished she could prove herself. Amelia Pond was chosen for the job she'd been asking for. She just swooped in and took the job, she wasn't even from Broadchurch.

"I know the people here. I know how to talk to them." Clara spoke as they drove towards the Latimer house to deliver the terrible news.

"How many murders have you worked on?" Pond gave Oswald a harsh glare.

"This is my first." Clara looked down at the ground as she spoke.

"Let me handle this... and don't look at me like that." Pond snapped when she noticed Clara's big brown eyes glaring back at her.

To Clara's surprise, Pond spoke to the family with a bit more sensitivity than she had expected. There was a heart in there after all. It was obvious that Pond was there to help but she wasn't there to be friends with any of them. Clara could hardly control her tears as she quietly shook her head yes to confirm to the boy's mother what they'd seen.

Beth Latimer was a young mother, like Clara. Beth had both her children before she turned 20. She was petite and pretty in a simple sort of way. Her painful sobs at the news of her young boy's death hit Clara too hard for her to conceal her grief. She couldn't just shut it off like Pond did but she believed it was her connection to the people that made her the right detective for the case.

Clara stayed behind with Beth while D.I. Pond led the boy's father to the station to I.D. the body. "I'm so sorry, Beth." She took the grieving mother's hand in hers. "I know there's nothing I could ever say or do to make this better or easier for you."

"Just catch the bloody bastard who did this to my little boy." Beth whispered angrily.

Clara wrapped her neighbor in a big warm hug. "I promise."

The detectives headed back to the top of the cliffs above where the body was found to discuss SOCO's findings. "It looks like the rockfall around the body was faked." Brian explained. "The angle of the body's all wrong, too well arranged. Someone tried to make it look like an accident."

The death was obviously a murder and not an accident after the coroner's information came in. Danny had been strangled by a man and he was facing his attacker when it happened. There didn't seem to be any other thing on the boy's body besides a small cut on his hand. They feared sexual violence but there wasn't any indication of it. Even still, parents worried a mad predator was on the loose. And in a small town of 15,000 that would very well be the friendly neighbor next door. There was a palpable sense of paranoia in the air but Pond and Oswald were on the case.

Clara wished to better connect with her new boss and decided to start the next day at work on the right foot by offering Pond a fresh cup of coffee.

"I don't drink coffee." Amy passed right by Clara, hardly acknowledging her.

Clara tried her best to hide the heartbreak but she couldn't help but get down on herself. She was everyone's friend in the office. She was bright and cheery and everyone seemed to love her. Deep down there was always a fear that no one did, so she always overcompensated. She ran around aiming to please everyone at all times. Her bubbly personality masking a rigid control freak.

"Oswald! In my office" D.I. Pond called out. "Alright, Oswald. I walked Danny's paper round and there's a hut on Brier Cliff about half a mile from where Danny's body was found. Find out who owns it and get the CCTV from the camera there." Amy gave Clara a look for a moment. "What are you doing? Go!" She shooed a doe-eyed D.S. Oswald away from her office.


	2. The Right Fit

With the CCTV footage downloading, D.I. Pond poured over the questions of the case with D.S. Oswald. "Danny's stakeboard and mobile are still missing, that's top priority. Also, main suspects, you know the town so who's the most likely? The boy was killed before he was left on the beach so where's our murder scene?"

Clara could feel the pressure of her unanswerable questions mounting. "Jack who runs the paper round said he saw the postman fighting with Danny once. That could be something."

"Good." Amy walked away and left Clara standing somewhat dumbfounded before she ran after her.

They later questioned the postman but he said he never recalled any argument. "What would I be arguing with a paper lad about? You don't think I had anything to do with it.."

"It's just to rule things out. Nothing to worry about." Clara smiled and said their goodbyes.

"Don't do that. 'Nothing to worry about.' " Pond frowned as they reached their car. "Don't reassure them, let them talk."

"Excuse me..." Clara finally began to crack. "You can't just come up here and try to mold me. I know what I'm doing and I know how to handle people and you can keep your broody bullshit shtick to yourself."

Amelia Pond seemed completely unfazed by her colleague's outburst and kept walking. Which infuriated Clara all the more. Oswald couldn't do anything to get on Pond's good side as hard as she tried. Clara required positive affirmation and Pond was giving her nothing. She wished to get Amelia's attention more than anything. She knocked on Pond's office door with some trepidation the next morning with chips to share. "Postman's alibi checks out. He was with his mates all Thursday night. But Jack said he'd seen them fight."

"Does Jack Marshall have any reason to lie to us?" Pond asked the question but continued to speak before Clara could answer. "Have you looked at the list of suspects the family gave you?"

"It's depressing. It's got all their friends and neighbors on it." Clara's face was melancholy as she scarfed down a handful of chips. "They're not thinking straight." She spoke with her mouth half full.

"They're smart." Pond hadn't touched the bag of chips Clara had bought her. "Perhaps they're trying to redirect our attention away from their own household."

"They didn't kill Danny." Clara was surprised by the accusation.

"You need to learn not to trust. If you can't look at things objectively you're not the right fit." Pond slowly put one chip in her mouth with a look of disgust in her face.

"No, it's you who isn't the right fit!" Clara lost her cool again. "You swoop in here stealing jobs from people and you can't accept a cup of coffee or a bag of chips without a great big sigh! ... Sorry, ma'am." Oswald sat back down and quietly ate her chips.

Same as before, Pond was unfazed by Oswald's outburst but her tone and demeanor did soften a bit. "You have to understand, Oswald. Anyone's capable of murder under the right circumstances but murder gnarls at the soul. The killer will reveal themselves sooner or later. I'm going to a service at the church on the hill. Danny's family goes there and I'm sure they'll be discussing his death at the service. I'll bet Danny's killer will show up, either to clear his conscience or to quietly gloat." Pond put on her coat and left for the church.

There was hardly 20 people at the Sunday service, a rather small crowd. The vicar wasn't what Pond had expected. He was a young man who seemed fresh out of seminary school but she herself was a bit young for her status. She was a Detective Inspector in charge of an entire murder investigation and she'd only just turned 30. And this wasn't her first time being in charge. She worked hard for what she'd accomplished and she didn't get where she was by being soft, no matter how much Clara tried.

"I know we're all struggling to understand what's happened in the last few days." The young reverend took a deep breath. "It's times like these that we question our faith. Why would a benevolent god allow this to happen?" He raised a powerful question and didn't give a clear answer either.

Pond was intrigued by the way he spoke. He was unafraid of pointing out the flaws in his own faith in a very candid manner. She stayed behind to see everyone as they walked out. Danny's grandmother was the only member of the family in attendance and she stayed behind to speak with the Vicar. She watched from afar how they spoke, they seemed close. How close was he to Danny? Amy wasn't like Clara, Pond knew there was a dark side to all people.

"Excuse me.." Pond approached Rev. Coates after Danny's grandmother had left. "I'm Amelia Pond, I'm investigating the recent tragedy. You're close to the Latimers, are you?"

"His grandmother mostly, sometimes Beth and Mark would stop by with the kids but not always." Paul replied. "I spoke with Beth just yesterday actually, poor thing's a wreck."

"Did she come to you for help?" Amy asked.

"No, she was just crying in the car park all alone and I went to her to make sure she was alright. I told her she could talk to me if she ever needed it. I just wish there were something more I could do." Paul looked up to the heavens. "I've tried everything. You saw how empty it was in here today. I've been here about 2 years now but I still feel like an outsider really."

"How do you like it here? I only just moved here myself a few weeks ago." Amelia attempted chit chat. "I personally don't think I fit in much either."

"I like it here, it's quiet. Peaceful... until all this." Paul looked down at his feet. "Am I allowed to ask how the investigation's going? Have you any idea who could have done this?"

"Whoever they are, I know they aren't far." Amelia smiled. "The truth will expose itself. Let it simmer long enough and the man responsible won't be able to stand the heat any longer."


	3. The Reverend

"Oswald!" Pond yelled from across the office. Clara had grown accustomed to Pond's yelling although there was a perfectly good intercom on her desk. Clara walked in and Pond continued. "It's the CCTV from the car park, it's Mark Latimer."

"What's he doing? He said he was out working." Clara looked surprised. The video suddenly stopped. "What happened?"

"The recording stops after that." Pond rolled her eyes at the terrible job the department had done in keeping the cameras operational. "So now we have to find out why Mark Latimer lied to us." Amy stood and began to put on her coat when she noticed the TV was on the news and Rev. Paul Coates was on the screen.

"We're a strong community and I hope the people know that the church is here to offer whatever support they need in the coming days.." The Reverend spoke.

"Can you believe this guy?" Pond scoffed. "Trying to squeeze his 15 minutes of fame out of all this."

Clara scoffed back. "Is it honestly so impossible to believe that he is genuinely concerned for the Latimer family?"

"You know what happens after a big murder like this gets out?" D.I. Pond explained. "Groupies, people who want to touch the case. People who want to be a part of the story, for better or worse. He's just the first." She began walking out of the office. "I'm going to church!"

"Ask the reverend if he knows any good exorcists since you're obviously possessed by some kind of soul sucking demon." Clara scoffed after Pond walked out the door. "Why couldn't I have said that to her face? I'm always funny when no one's looking." She rolled her eyes and went to the break room for tea.

Pond had planned to give the vicar a good talking to about how disgraceful it was to try and use the media frenzy on the murder to advertise for his church. But it seemed Mark was already there in full force.

"Your god left our son for dead!" Mark had Paul up against the wall with his fists grabbing at his collar.

"Hands off, Latimer!" Pond ordered as she ran towards them. Mark put his hand up and walked away slowly. Amelia ordered Mark to go home and he quietly obeyed. She looked Paul over. "Are you alright? I think if I hadn't shown up he might have punched you right in the face."

"I'm fine." Paul caught his breath. "He thought I was using him for publicity... I just wanted to help."

"I have to agree with Mark on this one." Pond crossed her arms.

"What?" Paul looked genuinely hurt by the accusation. "I was placed here to help this community and they need help now more than ever."

Pond looked at him, trying to decipher him. He was hiding something and she could feel it. She looked into his eyes and she couldn't find any evidence that he'd been lying. He was so convincing that she found herself falling for it. Maybe Clara was right, Pond was too cold to understand a genuinely kind person. She wasn't about to admit she was wrong and she sure as hell wasn't going to fall for Paul's innocent act. "I don't want you starting any more brawling, is that clear?" She found herself straightening his collar.

The Reverend chuckled. "I promise. I didn't even attempt to fight back. Do you think I should have fought back? I thought I shouldn't because I know he's grieving so much right now. He wasn't so much angry at me, he was angry at God. He was just looking for someone to take it out on."

"And you were going to just let him take it out on you?" Pond raised an eyebrow as Paul just casually shrugged his shoulders before she continued her line of questioning. "Wouldn't you be angry too? If someone took your child you wouldn't be angry at God?"

The Reverend spoke with a defeated sigh. "I really can't answer that. I can't imagine what they're going through." He looked at D.I. Pond, something in him detecting a twinge of personal bitterness behind her question. "Have you got any children?"

Pond didn't answer. She continued to speak as if he'd never asked. "Just stay out of the spotlight, alright." Pond quickly walked away back to her car. She was afraid to realize that she'd found the young reverend a bit charming. She cleared the thought from her mind and drove back to the Latimer house. She had to figure out what Mark was up to. She already knew he was lying about his whereabouts on the night of his son's death and now she'd witnessed a violent outburst from him. He was growing more and more suspicious by the minute.

The Latimers were sitting in the living room watching TV in silence when Pond walked in. There was a sense of tension in the air so thick it was almost difficult for Amelia to get her words out. "Can I speak with Mark, please? Outside, alone."

The wind was picking up as they went out the back porch. The air was growing cool and crisp as fall came fast approaching. More bracing than the wind, was D.I. Pond's quick and direct questions. "Thursday night when Danny went missing, where were you? You said you were out working on call but there was no call. We have CCTV footage of the car park on Briar Cliff."

"So you're snooping on me now?" Mark sounded defensive.

"What were you doing out there, Mark?" Amy glared.

"Am I a suspect now?" Mark's voice was growing worried but he was growing angry as well.

"If you just tell me what you were doing and who you were with I can eliminate you from suspicion. It's completely methodical. If you do not give me all the facts then I cannot eliminate you, making you a person of interest." Amelia spoke dryly as she wrote in her notebook.

"A suspect in the murder of my own son?" Mark's voice was low and grumbling.

D.I. Pond spoke flatly without hardly glancing up from her notes. "So I've made it quite clear for you then."


	4. Trouble Sleeping

Amelia Pond saw the way Mark kept glancing up at the kitchen window where his wife stood peeking through the blinds. "Mark, who did you meet on Briar Cliff?" D.I. Pond grabbed his attention. "Is there any particular reason you wouldn't want to tell me the name of the person you met?"

"I forget but it'll come back to me." Mark chuckled nervously.

"Not remembering who you met is a rather large gap in your recollection." Pond wasn't buying it for a second.

"Sorry, I haven't been sleeping since all this. My head's not on straight." Mark continued to deflect so the D.I. decided to drop the questions for now. But Mark was to meet them back at the station the next day to fill in the gaps.

The next morning as the sun struggled to make it's way over the horizon, the beach hut at the top of Briar Cliff was quickly sifted through for evidence. Some prints were found matching Danny's and Mark's.

"I really don't think Mark is capable of this" D.S. Oswald sighed. "There's plenty of reasons why his prints could have been in that hut."

"You need to wake up and look at the evidence in front of you and stop acting like you're his bloody solicitor!" Pond had clearly angered Oswald but she didn't stop there. "Your son and Danny were close so we'll need to interview him alongside an appropriate adult. Not you, of course." With that Pond walked away leaving Clara to quietly fume with repressed frustration at the edge of the cliff.

After a long morning of collecting information from the crime scene, Clara Oswald came home to her husband and fell into his arms. "I'm just here for lunch, I have to get back." She whispered.

"How's the new boss?" Joe enveloped his wife in a hug. Clara simply started to cry as her anger and frustration finally got released. Joe guided her to a chair and had her sit on his lap as he cradled her. He kissed her forehead, "So it's that bad, is it?" He chuckled a bit. "It's going to be ok" he whispered. Clara gathered enough strength to drag herself back to the station to question her neighbor on the murder of his son. She knew deep down it couldn't be him but in the interrogation, he wasn't helping to prove his innocence.

"Sorry about yesterday, I was hazy when you asked me all those questions." He forced a tightlipped smile.

"No, you were just trying to lie." Pond was in no mood to play games. "You said yesterday you were out with a mate on Thursday night but you couldn't remember his name, now you do?"

"It was Nige, I work with him." Mark was too quick to reply.

"You couldn't remember the name of a man you work with everyday?" D.I. Amelia Pond's biting sarcasm was chilling the room.

"The shock is doing funny things, I suppose." Mark shrugged with a smug look on his face.

Clara's face grew worried. He was obviously lying, he was hiding something. She didn't want to believe it but she couldn't keep denying the facts in front of her.

"Have you been here?" Pond threw a picture of the hut on Briar Cliff on the table.

Mark shook his head yes. "I was there 2 weeks ago to fix a burst pipe."

"We'll be confirming that with the owners of the hut and with Nige." Clara spoke softly with a smile on her face. Still feeling sympathetic towards him even after the obvious lies and the terrifying possibility that he had a hand in his son's death.

Pond and Oswald left the station to speak with Nigel about their supposed night out. "He created an alibi overnight." Pond scoffed. "How convenient."

Pond spoke with Nigel while Oswald spoke with Nigel's mother. Nigel knew Mark was being questioned and had been coached by Mark to say the right things. Mark didn't think to coach Nige's mother. She told them the truth, Nige had been in all night watching TV with her. They confronted Mark back at the station where he'd been waiting for some time.

"Your friend isn't a very good liar so please stop insulting my intelligence." Pond leaned in as she spoke. "Your son has been murdered so I am honestly at a loss as to why you would intentionally mislead us." Pond was obviously angry but not because Mark had tried to pull the wool over their eyes. She was seeking justice, she wanted to do right by Danny no matter the cost and his own father was in the way of that. It infuriated her to no end. "Until you tell us where you really were that night we cannot rule you out."

Mark finally confessed the truth, he had been cheating on his wife the night of the incident with a Ms. Becca Fisher. Suddenly letting it all go, he broke down into tears. "I didn't want to tell you. I'm so ashamed. This is a punishment, a punishment for what I've done." Clara put her arms around Mark in an attempt to console him. Pond, still stone cold, told Mark he was free to go. "Just please don't tell Beth, please." Mark pleaded. They figured it best not to, Beth had been through enough.

Clara had trouble sleeping that night. She tossed and turned while her husband slept soundly beside her. She walked to Tom's room, then to baby Fred's room. She looked in on them and nearly cried. She couldn't imagine the pain of losing them, she didn't want to even try. It was then that her mobile rang, Beth left a message to ask if they could meet, now. They met in the small, open field between their two houses and the church at the top of the hill. They held each other in a tight hug and sat on the grass to talk. It was the usual 'how are you feeling?' chit chat before Beth just couldn't take it anymore.

"Clara, is Mark a suspect?"

"Beth, it's 4 in the morning."

"I have to know."

"It's not that simple."

"Yes it is!" Beth raised her voice but quickly regained her composure. "Do you think he killed Danny or not?"

"There were just some gaps in his movements that we weren't able to fill." Clara tried to explain.

"I know about Becca Fisher." Beth confessed. She'd been unable to sleep and saw her husband sneaking out of the house to meet her. She saw them kiss and heard them talking. She knew he was with Becca on Thursday. "He doesn't know I saw him."

"Beth, you have to talk to him and tell him you know. I'm so sorry." Clara embraced her friend as she tried to hold back tears. She looked up at the church in the distance at the top of the hill. There was a light coming from the open door of the chapel and a silhouette of a tall, thin man under the archway. "Is that Paul?" Clara asked aloud, making Beth turn up towards the church to look. Slowly he turned and closed the door.

Clara wondered if he could see the two of them holding each other in the field from where he stood. Was he simply standing at the doorway or was he purposely watching them? And if so, how often did the reverend stand and watch them from afar in the middle of the night? Everything and everyone around her grew more and more suspicious by the moment. The world was closing in around Clara and she couldn't stand it.


	5. Don't Be An Asshole About It

They had planned to speak with Becca to make sure the affair story wasn't another false alibi. But she came to the station without being asked and explained the situation, knowing that telling the truth was the only way they'd let Mark go. Even though Mark was free to go, Pond wasn't ready to let him off the hook just yet.

"What if Danny found out about Mark and Becca's affair?" She asked with a coffee in hand.

"Are you suggesting Mark killed his own son to keep him quiet?" Clara replied. She was still holding out for Mark's innocence. The terrible things it would do to Beth if Pond's hunches were true, Clara couldn't bare to think it. She spent the whole day at the office, the sun had set hours ago and she was still far from finishing her work. Her family weighing on her mind all day forced her to call and check on them.

"I'll be home soon." She whispered on her mobile in the corner of the office. "How's Tom?"

"He's fine." Joe replied on the other line. Clara could hear Fred's baby toys clinking and beeping away in the background. "So how's the boss behaving today?" Joe asked.

"Same." Clara sighed.

"Smother her with kindness, Clara. Isn't that your usual way?" Joe's voice was so sweet Clara could hear his smile through the phone. "I love you!" He gushed.

"Quite right, I mean, love you too." Clara smiled as she hung up. She felt so lucky to have him. He was a paramedic when they met but he became a full time stay-at-home parent after Clara's career took up most of her time. He did it gladly, he loved being a dad.

Joe had to come down to the station the next day with Tom, they were going to ask him some questions since Tom was Danny's best friend. Since it would be an obvious conflict of interest to have Clara do the interview, it was up to Amelia Pond to speak with Tom. "Can you think of anyone who'd try to hurt Danny?" She asked in a much sweeter tone than she usually used. Tom confessed that Danny had been hit by his father before. He didn't know if it was just the once but he'd come over to Tom's with a split lip, Danny said his dad had done it. That seemed to be all Tom really knew.

Clara already hated that Tom had to be interviewed for the investigation so it was the last straw when Pond asked if Tom could be in the crime scene reconstruction. They were the same age, height and build. "He's the perfect fit." D.I. Pond explained very matter-of- factly.

"He just lost his best friend! Reenacting the moments before his death could traumatize him for life." Clara raised her voice.

"Ask Tom and let him decide then." Pond shrugged still not seeing the issue.

"No, I'm his mum. I decide." Clara stood from her desk and was close to yelling at her superior. "Ugh! You're invited to dinner."

"What?" Pond replied. "At your house? Why? That's not a good idea."

"Don't be an asshole about it! It's what people do." Clara clenched her teeth in frustration as she spoke. "People invite their bosses over for a night where they don't have to talk about work."

"Then what are we going to talk about?" Pond was seriously confused by the invite. She didn't want to get close to Clara or anyone for that matter.

"I don't know! Just say yes." Clara sighed and fell back into her seat behind her desk, physically exhausted from talking to her. She'd taken her husband's advice and attempted to smother Pond with kindness till she caved.

Pond reluctantly agreed. All the small town hospitality really made her uncomfortable. She wanted to keep to herself and just focus on the case. She wasn't moved to Broadchruch to make friends, she was there to do her job.

After a long night at work, Amelia Pond had hardly gotten into her bed when a call came in, a boat had been found scorched in flames at the edge of the shore. The killer trying to hide evidence, no doubt. It was a little after dawn when SOCO had finished looking at the wreckage. "The boat was covered in petrol and set of fire with a molotov cocktail according to the broken glass and cloth found inside it." Brian explained.

"To get a boat out into the ocean and then set it on fire, the killer would need to be dragging a second boat with him to get back to shore." Clara theorized.

"Or there's more than one person involved here." Pond added. "Do we have any idea who the boat belongs to?"

"Not yet but we found strands of hair that's we've taken for analysis." Brian explained.

"Out-bloody-standing!" Pond seemed almost happy for the first time Clara had seen. "We've got them running scared, Oswald!" She patted Clara's back with such forced, it made her jump. Not only from the strength of her congratulatory slap but from the simple fact that Pond was actually touching her. Pond seemed to avoid human contact as if she were allergic to it.

"Well, that's got you all cheered up." Clara smiled as they walked back to their car.

"They're panicking, Oswald! That is exactly what we want. They'll eventually slip up and show themselves. And they're amateurs, this whole thing is too clumsy. They've never done anything like this before."

News of the mysterious boat was starting to make it's way around the town, prompting the police to hold a community meeting to keep everyone up to date on what was fact and what was fiction. Rumors were running rampant and everyone was pointing fingers at everyone else, all certain they had some important information about the case.

Most were just the sort Pond had worried about before, people so desperate to be special that they pretended to know something for a chance at 15 seconds of fame. News crews from neighbouring cities were starting to roll in, it was quickly becoming a national news story.

The Latimers wanted the news there, they wanted everyone to hear about Danny and help in any way they could. But Pond was weary of journalists, they tended to lean towards sensationalism and misinformation and there was nothing Pond hated more than the blind stupidity of the masses. They'll eat up any nonsense The Herald decides to print without checking the facts.


	6. I Was Home Alone

A young amature journalist, affectionately known by his aunt Clara as Olly, came running towards the two detectives half out of breath. Oliver knew Pond's hatred of the media walking on the police's turf but he was honestly trying to do what was right by Danny.

"I came across some information about Jack Marshall." He handed Pond some documents. "He runs the newsstand Danny used to work in, as well as The Sea Brigade. He served time in prison before he moved to Broadchurch, for underage sex."

It was the hot lead Amelia Pond was looking for. "Why was this not discovered by us first?" She asked as her and Oswald walked down the halls of the station to the interrogation room.

"He wasn't really a prime suspect so we didn't think to make him a priority." Clara briskly followed behind Pond.

"Well make him a priority now!" Pond walked through the door to the room where Jack had been asked to wait and suddenly she changed her tone. "Jack Marshall, D.I. Pond and you know D.S. Oswald, I assume." She sat down across from him and got straight to the point. "I need you to tell us about your previous conviction for sex with a minor, Jack. Just to establish the facts."

"That has nothing to do with your investigation." Jack replied stubbornly. He was a weathered looking old man in his late 70's. He was ragged but something about the way he carried himself suggested a man with pride exceeding his present condition.

"You run the Sea Brigade, that means you work with children. That requires background checks. Why aren't you on the sex offender registry?" Pond asked.

"Because I'm not a sex offender. That conviction was a farce." Jack replied.

"Why didn't you tell us, Jack?" Clara asked warmly. She knew Jack Marshall and all he ever did seemed to come from a good heart. But the conviction was true he served a year in prison for it. There had to an explanation.

"Should I have put up a sign? 'EX CON Here!' " His voice grew sarcastic. "I moved to this town to get away from all that. I am not what you're insinuating."

"So where were you the night of Danny's death?" Pond was certainly not one to belabor the moment.

"I was home alone reading a book." Jack's voice was laced with a quietly growing anger.

"Can anyone vouch for that?" Pond asked.

"Only the book." Jack shot back sarcastically.

"I've been told you're an amature photographer. You take a lot of pictures of the boys in the Sea Brigade." Pond continued seemingly unfazed by Jack's increasing hostile attitude.

"I really pity you." Jack shook his head. "You see nothing but depravity in perfectly normal behaviour. Now if you've got any real evidence to accuse me with, let's hear it. Otherwise, let me get back to my work." Jack was right, all they had was speculations. They let him go but he was obviously their biggest suspect now.

Clara waited for Jack to leave before speaking with Pond. "You're still coming to dinner, right? Joe's cooking."

"Yeah, I said I would didn't I?" Pond rolled her eyes a bit. "Now let's get back to work, who's next on the list?"

Clara Oswald shuffled through her papers to see who they had to interview next. "The vicar, he was one of the few we spoke with who didn't have a clear enough alibi."

"Do you know him well?" Pond asked.

"He's only been at the church for 2 years. That and we're not really churchgoers unless we remember Easter." Clara shrugged as they headed out to catch him at the church.

Paul Coates was reading from a tablet as he sat on a bench at the edge of the cemetery next to the church. He kindly invited them to sit down as he began to answer questions.

"Danny's grandmother, Liz comes regularly. Sometimes Beth comes with the kids. I also used to run the IT club at Danny's school." He explained his relation to the family.

"So you knew Danny well?" Pond asked.

"Not too well but I remember he was a quick learner, same as Tom." Paul smiled at Clara. "They were good kids, the both of them."

"And where were you the night of Danny's death?" Amy broke Paul and Clara's friendly gaze. Oswald was far too sweet to the suspects. Pond feared she'd be easily swayed but the reverend's warm smile.

"I was home alone. Up really late trying to write a sermon. 'Trying' being the operative word." He chuckled. Something about the sweetness in his smile started making Pond sway to his side as well. Pond squinted a bit as if maybe that would help her see through his act better.

"Are you often up late?" Oswald asked. "I was up about 4 in the morning and I saw you standing outside the church."

"I thought it was you I saw." Paul grew a little more serious. "I have terrible insomnia. I've had it for over a year now and I can't find anything to cure it so I'm often up late just... wandering."

"Anything that might have triggered it?" Clara asked in a concerned tone.

"Uh.. Not really... no" Paul seemed to be thinking about what to say. It came out as if he were holding something back.

Pond could feel him hiding something. "So you weren't out wandering on Thursday night then." She asked. He shook his head no.

Clara's phone rang. "I'm sorry, it's Joe. Could be about the kids... I should take it."

Pond nodded and let Clara walk off into the cemetery to take her call. She sat in an uncomfortable silence before Paul broke it.

"I know it's strange, the insomnia. Sounds weird, it's true though. Am I allowed to ask if this follow up means anything? I mean, I already spoke to some officers about my whereabouts on the night of the tragedy." Paul looked at her with worry slowly mounting behind his eyes. "Tell me honestly, am I a suspect? I'm allowed to know, right?"

"Yes, you're allowed to know. This is all routine. Like you said so yourself that it sounds strange, 'I was home all alone, sometimes I sleep walk.' sounds like a weak alibi." Pond replied.

"Yeah, that's fair enough." Paul nodded and bit his lip a bit. "I want to cooperate, I really want to be of service and help in any way that I can."

"I've never met anyone eager to help who didn't have an ulterior motive for doing so." Pond shot him a look.

"Well... I guess you haven't met a lot of decent people then." Paul looked down at the ground shyly. "Can't blame you for your lack of trust in people. You must deal with a lot of strange things, talking to criminals all day can make anyone lose faith in humanity. It takes a strong person to do what you do."

"What about your job?" Pond smiled a bit, glad to hear the compliment but wearly understanding it could be a ploy to soften her up. She took the opportunity to get close to him as a way to hopefully find some answers. "You sit in that stone and stained glass cage all day listening to people confess their sins. We're not too far off, you and me."

Paul chuckled. "I guess so, but it's not my place to judge. That and I don't mind listening to people. Whether you can believe it or not, I really do want to help people."

"Sorry about that." Clara came back to the bench. "It was Joe, worrying about me." She chuckled. "So... what did I miss?"

"Not much..." Pond looked at Paul and smiled as she stood up. "Thanks for all your help, vicar."


	7. Do You Have Kids?

Pond thought about what the reverend had said as she walked around the shop. He was right, she had lost faith in humanity. Almost lost faith, she still believed in Oswald. She seemed to be the only genuine person Pond knew. And although Clara's inclination to wear her heart on her sleeve made her seem too emotional for police work, she really was helpful simply for her joy in helping others. Pond was strangely worried about the dinner that night, she really wanted to do it right for Clara.

"Oh, you're in a suit, I'm sorry we didn't get poshed up." Clara smiled as she opened the door for Pond. She was in an oversized yellow jumper and old worn out jeans.

"I brought wine... and umm.. flowers... and chocolates." She pushed all three into Clara's arms quickly. "I didn't know what to buy so I just bought them all."

"Aww bless." Oswald smiled awkwardly. "Please come in. Can I call you Amelia tonight instead of Pond or ma'm?"

"I never liked the name Amelia." Pond grimaced. "Why do people insist on using names so much anyway? When I'm looking at you, you know I'm talking to you. I don't need to repeat your name a million times over just to congratulate myself on remembering it to create a false sense of intimacy."

Clara looked wide eyed in shock at Amelia Pond's total inability to interact with humans. Clara had half expected Pond's tough attitude to be a thing she did while working but it was actually her natural state. It made Clara wonder, because no one could be so cold without reason. Someone as beautiful as Pond; tall, lean, porcelain skin and long, bright, red hair. She ought to be the happiest woman in the world, she ought to have men drooling over her. Instead she had everyone running scared.

Joe brought the plates to the dining room table and sat down to join them. They had the usual chit chat about the weather that lead into what the kids did that day. Amelia almost smiled at the subject.

"Do you have kids, Pond?" Joe asked.

"No." She answered. "..not anymore..."

That's when it all clicked in Clara's mind, why Pond was so cold. They couldn't speak much else after that and sat in a strange silence for a solid 10 minutes before Joe chimed in. "Do you think you're going to solve the case?"

"Joe!" Clara glared. "I said no talking about work."

"I'm certain." Pond gave him a stark glare.

Joe paused for a moment before smiling. "That's good." He said.

"Ugh, alright well, that's enough of that. I have to use the toilet and when I come back I want no talk of work. Is that clear?" Clara pointed a scolding finger at Joe who shook his head yes.

Joe chuckled. "I really do love her, you know."

"Does she like me?" Amelia asked. "I mean, working with me. Does she like working with me?" She felt herself slowly melting.

"Well, you're here for dinner, aren't you?" Joe smiled with a friendly wink.

"No, I think I irritate her." She sighed.

"She hasn't mentioned it." Joe shrugged.

"You're a bloody terrible liar." Pond laughed.

Joe started to chuckle. "Alright Ms. Detective. I obviously can't hide from you. You've got me."

Clara came back to a room filled with snickering. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing." The both of them answered in unison through giggles. Pond had needed a moment to relax. She hated feeling like she'd let them in her heart but she had. Now she walked apprehensively, just waiting for one of them to break her heart. She knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. Anyone she let in did her in eventually.

She sincerely thanked the Oswalds for a lovely dinner and began to walk back the the hotel where she was staying. It was the same hotel Becca Fisher ran, Mark's fling. If it wasn't so obvious that the bruises on Danny's throat were caused by a man, Pond might have suspected her. If her theory about Mark killing Danny to keep him quiet was true, who's to say she wasn't an accomplice.

Pond found herself walking past the old church and saw the door was slightly open. She peeked in to see Paul kneeling in the dim lights by the altar, whispering a prayer aloud under his breath. "Give me the strength..." she could make out from his whispers. "I ask for your courage.." he continued too low for Pond to hear. She figured it best not to eavesdrop any longer as it was obviously a private moment she'd been stepping into.

Maybe he wasn't putting on an act or maybe he was an honest heart like Clara. Pond didn't want to let the thought in. She'd already reached friendship status with Clara and Joe, she didn't want to make anymore room in her heart to care for anyone else.

The next morning, the Sunday paper came with a cover that surprised the two detectives. "Why did she do this?" Clara walked into her kitchen. "We told her not to go to the press." She threw a copy of The Herald on the kitchen table. It was a big cover story on Danny's murder with a two page interview starring Beth.

"It looks alright to me." Joe shrugged as he held baby Fred in his arms. "I was thinking of taking the kids to church today. I just... got this feeling."

"Ok." Clara gave him a kiss. It was odd since they weren't church goers but she figured the case was starting to make him question things. With two little boys of their own, it was hard not to get this feeling. Like, you want an answer to why it's happened and you know it's something only God himself could answer.

"Have you seen The Herald today!" Pond yelled from the other end of the phone to Clara. "This is going to open the floodgates! The station's already inundated with calls from media outlets from all over the country."

"I was going to go to church." Clara replied.

"Yes! Everyone will be there so we can see who's acting normally! I'll meet you there." Pond put on her coat and ran to the church. She found a news crew outside the church trying to talk to the Latimers as they walked into the church. She was about to step in when she noticed Clara was already there.

"Lenses down! Have some bloody decency!" She yelled as she showed her badge. Amelia seemed to beam with pride at her friend's display of power. She nodded a hello to Oswald but didn't sit with her and her family. She sat by herself in the pew furthest back where she could survey the congregation.


	8. Having Lunch With A Suspect

Paul walked out dressed in his robes and nodded at the congregation with a timid smile as he thanked them all for coming. Pond looked at him and wondered if he'd slept at all that night. It had been well past midnight when she'd seen him kneeling at the altar. She could no longer deny that she was feeling something for him, she genuinely cared to know if he'd slept well.

The vicar took and deep breath and continued to speak. "We're pressed on every side by troubles but we are not crushed. We're perplexed but not driven to despair. We're knocked down but we are not destroyed. We may feel like we're being hunted down but we are never abandoned by God. As a community we have to remember that, and we have to stand together. We will not let this destroy us."

There was a strong and quiet determination in his eyes. It seemed to Pond that Paul was talking to himself as well as his congregation. Something was heavily weighing down on his soul. Clara asked Pond after the service if she wanted to have lunch with the Latimer's as she had been invited to join them. Pond declined. "No, the Latimer's are your friends, not mine. My being there might just make them uncomfortable anyway." She explained.

Pond found herself looking for Paul after the service but he was surrounded by proud parishioners congratulating him on his sermon. She wanted to ask how he was feeling and if his night had been another restless on. She was kicking herself for feeling the way she did. How could she possibly have developed such a ridiculous infatuation with the vicar? It was especially troubling since he'd not yet been checked off the suspect list. She left and went back to her hotel room almost wishing she'd said yes to Clara's invitation. Instead she was left alone with her troubling thoughts.

It was a much needed gathering for the Latimers. They were genuinely laughing with friends for the first time in days. But the fun was cut short when Jack Marshall came in looking quite worried. "Is everything alright?" Beth Latimer asked as she slowly stood from her table.

"I found this..." Jack held a cell phone in his hand. "I heard it beeping inside a delivery bag, he must have left it..."

"That's Danny's phone." Mark Latimer grabbed the phone from Jack as he held back tears.

"I need to take it at evidence. Please give it here." Clara extended her hand covered by a napkin in hopes of not leaving anymore fingerprints to contaminate it.

"Mark, Beth.." Jack spoke. "People are going to start saying things about me and those things aren't true. Something happened to me before I moved to Broadchurch and they're going to try and use it against me. I'm here now, looking you in the eye and telling you that I am not that kind of man. Please, believe me."

Before anyone could ask anymore questions, a tapping at their window caught their attention. Photographers had their cameras out at an attempt to catch the now famous Latimer family having lunch with a suspect. Mark and Joe ran outside and yelled at them to leave while Clara escorted Jack back to his home.

All was quiet until the one week reconstruction, it had finally been confirmed that the hairs found in the boat that had been burned were in fact Danny's. He had been on that boat the night he was killed but who the boat belonged to was still a mystery. Tom agreed to do the reconstruction deciding it would be helpful and the right thing to do for his lost friend.

Half the town, as well as some news crews, followed Tom as he rode his skateboard down the street in the middle of the night just as Danny had last been seen. People followed holding candles in vigil. They hoped that this could jog people's memories and help them find more clues. It was broadcast all over the country, Danny's death was officially national news.

Mark came up to Pond after the reconstruction to talk by the cliff, where the walk had ended. "I've been hearing about Jack Marshall, I heard about his past conviction. Do you think it was him?"

"I cannot speculate on anything without all the evidence." Pond tried to walk past him but he blocked her path.

"You may not be speculating but everybody else is." Mark looked increasingly upset.

"People need to calm down and stop acting like they're amature detectives when they know nothing about this case." Pond pushed him aside as she briskly walked past.

"No one's going to calm down until you arrest somebody." Mark yelled at her as she walked away to speak with Clara.

"Where's Tom?" Pond asked. Clara had stated that he's gone home with Joe. "You tell Tom he's a good lad and he did right by Danny." Pond put a friendly hand on Oswald's shoulder as she walked back to her car. When Pond got back to her hotel she was bombarded by local shopkeepers begging that she tell the press about their struggles. They thrived on the summertime tourist season and it was being ruined by the murder. No one wanted to spend their summer vacation on Broadchurch's now famous murder beach.

She reluctantly agreed to make a public announcement on the radio stressing that their was nothing to fear at Broadchurch. "The police tape has come down and the beach is fully open. Local businesses are hoping no one is put off from visiting this beautiful part of the world because of one tragic, completely isolated event." She sighed with relief as the woman recording gave her the ok to stop. Paul Coates was also standing by the pier where they were the radio host was recording as he waited for his turn to speak to her. Pond walked towards him. "Did you hear that? Did I sound like the biggest asshole you ever heard?"

"Surprisingly, no. Not the biggest..." Paul replied with a smile. "I'm next so you'll have some competition."

Pond found herself laughing at the reverend's jab at himself. "They even bring us out here so they can record the sound of the sea and everything. I hate these bullshit commercials I'm being forced into. I'm not used to doing this sort of thing." She added.

"I do public announcements on the radio all the time for the church. It's the only time my mum believes I'm a real priest." Paul joked again.

"My Aunt Sharon still doesn't believe I'm a police officer so I get what that's like." Pond wanted to stop sounding so friendly but she couldn't help it. Paul's sweetness was infecting her.

"Do you have any family near here?" He asked.

"No, Aunt Sharon's in Scotland and that's really all the family I have. I had a partner once..." She trailed off realizing she was giving out her personal information.

" 'Had' as in... past-tense? Like a business partner or...?" Paul trailed off as well realizing how obvious the insinuation of that question must have been to the detective. Why should he be interested if she was single or not? As if Pond being single was any indication that he could get anywhere near her. He was obviously barking up the wrong tree.

"He was an everything partner, we worked together as well as ... other stuff." Pond suddenly remembered Paul's profession when she looked at his uniform and felt like she had to refrain from saying anything overtly sexual around him. "So yeah... word of advice from someone who's been there, it's never a good idea to mix business with pleasure. Especially when the man in question is a complete and total dickhead."

"That's great advice." The Reverend chuckled. "I think Paul's letter to the Corinthians says much the same."

Pond laughed so hard she had to catch her breath. "Ok, you caught me off guard, sorry. I was not expecting you to say something so funny. I can honestly say I've never met a funny vicar before."

Paul chuckled as he looked down at the floor shyly. "It's nice to see you smile... I mean..." Paul felt his face flushing. "I'm sure with everything you've been dealing with, it's good that you're laughing. You probably don't get to laugh much with all the grim work you have to do."

"Yeah, thanks..." All at once, the detective picked up on all the clues Paul had been giving her and she felt her heart drop to her stomach. He was obviously infatuated with her, she had to distance herself from him fast.


	9. Bereavement Counselor

Pond found her attempt to distance herself from the vicar more difficult than she had anticipated. She found him outside the police station the next day with a copy of the morning paper. "Have you seen The Harold today?" Paul handed her the news.

The detective looked in horror at the cover of The Harold with a picture of Jack Marshall and the headline reading "Ex-peado Lives Next To Latimer's." Pond threw the paper on the ground and yelled up to the sky. "Why!? For fuck's sake! Who leaked this?! Oh, I swear if I find out how this happened I will fu..." She looked at the reverend standing with his big blue eyes wide in shock and she attempted to compose herself. "Sorry, Vicar."

Paul nodded timidly. "Do you honestly think he had anything to do with it?" He asked.

"I cannot say for certain, it's still an ongoing investigation. But his past is working against him." Pond picked up the stomped on newspaper from the ground.

"I don't know if it's fair to judge him for his past. We all have our foibles." Paul looked down at the ground as he spoke as if he were admitting to his own shortcomings as well as Jack's.

"Guess so." Pond gave a curt nod goodbye "Vicar.." Inside the police station, office was abuzz as people scrambled to tidy up the mess the headlines had caused. There were frantic calls from citizens and multiple calls from Jack himself, who was now in fear of his safety. The Chief Superintendent had to call a meeting with the two detectives in her office. "How strong of a suspect is Jack really?" C.S. Jenkinson asked.

"He had strong ties to Danny, has a previous conviction, a weak alibi and Danny's phone was in his possession." Pond went over her list.

"Who else?" she asked with a heavy sigh. Even with the doors closed, the sound phones ringing off the hook bled through the walls. Jenkinson was more than a little stressed at the moment.

"Mark Latimer was very quick to lie about where he was and even had a false alibi pre-set up. And according to Oswald's son, Mark hit Danny once and split his lip." Pond looked at the last name on the list. "Then there's the vicar." She took a breath, the weight of her feelings quickly tugging at her chest. She just as quickly brushed it off and continued. "His alibi is weak, he taught Danny's computer class and his church looks directly over the Latimer house."

"Tread lightly, Pond." The C.S. warned. "We can do without offending the church."

"Well, better hope it's not him then." Pond's sharp, emotionless reply made Clara snicker. Hearing Clara laugh made Pond almost smile herself, but only almost. The stress of work was getting to her, her nightmares were coming back. She'd woken up screaming the other night and nearly scared Becca Fisher to death.

"Is there anything I can do?" Becca asked. "I'm sorry but the room downstairs was complaining about the noise."

"I'm sorry. I'm... taking some... I'm taking barbiturates." Pond hated admitting to needing drugs. "I'll be fine... and tell the room downstairs I do apologize." She quickly closed the door in Becca's face and took the last pill she had in her bottle.

She thought of Rev. Coates the night after the news of Jack broke out. She thought about how he took to walking when he couldn't sleep and decided perhaps she ought to do the same. But she didn't get any further beyond the back door of The Trader's Hotel. As she walked out the back door that night she caught Paul standing by the door with a backpack in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

"You smoke?" Pond looked surprised. She'd caught him off guard and he quickly dropped the cigarette and stepped on it with his foot.

"I know... It's such a terrible vice. I really shouldn't ..." Paul nervously apologized.

"It's alright." Pond chuckled. "I'm not going to arrest you for smoking."

Paul chuckled back, still a bit nervously. "I really am trying to quit though." He sighed. "I hate feeling so weak willed." He looked down at the squashed cigarette on the ground. "Becca tells me you're having trouble sleeping."

"What exactly are you doing here in the middle of the night talking with Becca Fisher?" Pond asked. "Please tell me I'm not catching you at the end of a late night hook up." Pond scoffed at the idea.

"What?! No... I.." The reverend went red with embarrassment at the accusation. "I was helping her manage her finances." Paul pulled out a folder full of tax documents. "If business doesn't pick up soon she could be facing foreclosure, poor thing."

"So you're an accountant, an IT specialist, and a vicar all in one. I'm impressed." Pond smiled.

"Yes, I'm very impressive, a real renaissance man." Paul joked.

"And you've got a good sense of humour as well." Pond added.

"I also play guitar." Paul winked.

"How does Becca keep her hands off of you when you're doing her books?" Pond chuckled.

"I don't think I'm her type." Paul's gaze drifted back to the ground.

"No, she prefers married men." Pond scoffed.

Paul paused for a moment. "She's made her mistakes, everyone has." He tried to stick up for his friend. "Can I ask what your nightmares are about?"

"You honestly want to know?" Pond asked and watched as Paul shook his head yes. "I dream about death." Pond replied coldly. "The death of my child to be more specific."

Paul stood silently looking out into the darkness of the small patch of woods behind The Trader's. He took a heavy sigh before continuing. "Have you thought about maybe seeing a bereavement counselor?"

"I don't want a counselor." Pond scoffed. "They'll tell me I need to let go of my anger but I need my anger, it's all I've got." She looked at Paul and his eyes were filled with concern for her. Pond's eyes went cold as she continued. "She was three weeks old in her crib when she died. What's worse is that I didn't even want her, I wanted an abortion. I should have had one."

"I'd have to disagree..." Paul got cut off.

"Yes, let's let the men decide what we should do with our bodies, right?" Pond grew angrier. "I hated it, that thing growing inside of me." Pond felt tears ushering forth with no way to pull them back. "But when I held her in my arms, I loved her and I knew it was my duty to protect her and I failed her."

"You didn't fail her, she was taken." Paul attempted to comfort her.

"Why?!" Pond was suddenly letting her emotions out. "Why does God create children and then take them back?!"

"I... I don't know.." Paul was holding back his own tears as he took Pond's hands in his. "I don't know the reasons why God does things the way he does. All I know is that this is the life we've been given and we have to accept that." Paul found himself drying the tears on Pond's face with his hands. "I wish I had an answer for you. I wish there was something more I could do to help."

"I don't need your help." Pond slowly backed away from Paul as she noticed her hands had ended up holding onto his sleeves as he stroked her cheek with his hand. This was beyond close, this was the opposite of what she wanted. She didn't want to want him.

"Right..." Paul snapped out of the embrace they'd found themselves in when Pond backed away from him. It was true that it wasn't proper for him to touch her in such an intimate way, but he only meant to comfort her. "It's ok if you don't want to talk right now but if you ever do... You know where to find me." Paul put his backpack up over his shoulder. "Sleep well, Pond."

"Vicar." She nodded goodbye as she watched him walked through the woods to his home at the bottom of the hill. Her heart began to skip at the mere thought of his hands caressing her face. She was falling far too deep to climb out and she feared the worst.


	10. Your Concern Has Been Noted

The next morning Pond and Oswald were sent to Jack Marshall's store to check up on him. Paparazzi from the press were hounding him all morning and an officer had to be placed at the front of the store to keep people away. It was a little place by the pier that sold little beach picnic supplies, magazines, snacks and the like. The moment Pond and Oswald walked in, Jack began to yell at them.

"How is this allowed to happen?! I need police protection, I'm under siege!" The old man pointed angrily at the store window flashing with camera's trying to sneak a peek at Broadchurch Jack, as he was now being referred to by the news. D.I. Pond walked over and closed the blinds to the windows.

"Just stay inside for now." Pond sighed. "I'm sure this will blow over soon enough. But I know there's something about your conviction that you're holding back from us." She crossed her arms defiantly.

"I was a music teacher, she was a pupil." Jack explained. "It was a mutual attraction."

"So who called the police?" Pond asked.

"Her father." Jack sighed. "She was 15 and 11 months, another 4 weeks and nothing would have been amiss."

Clara looked at the old man and saw genuine heartbreak in his eyes. "Did you have contact with the girl after you were released from prison?" She asked.

"I married her the week after my release, she was 17 and I was 40." Jack's hands were shaking as he spoke. Telling the tale was obviously difficult for him.

"Where is she now then?" Pond wondered.

"We had a son.." Jack's voice cracked. "He died in a car accident when he was six, the grief tore us apart." Jack was now fighting to hold back tears. "They're saying on the news that I liked to hug the boys from the Sea Brigade because I'm a peadophile. That's not it, I just miss my boy. I miss hugging him, I miss him everyday."

Pond's demeanor became softer as she slowly began to empathize with Jack. "You should have told us the whole story when we first asked." She whispered. But she knew she'd come on so strong at the interrogation before that it made sense for him to close up. Besides, it was something so dreadful that it was difficult for him to put into words. She looked out at the window and she could still hear journalists and photographers clamoring. "You could sue The Harold for defamation but it would be difficult." She gave the only piece of help she could think of. She had a hard time with consoling people.

"We've got an officer outside the store for you but you should probably close up shop today and go home." Oswald sweetly offered to give him a personal police escort back to his home while Pond headed back to the station. Once there, Pond ran into Paul Coates at the front door waiting for her again.

"What are you doing to protect Jack Marshall." He sounded concerned but slightly irritated.

"How is what I'm doing any of your concern?" Pond was growing a bit impatient with him always sticking his big nose in the case and in her business.

"He's one of my parishioners and he called me for help. There was a mob at his storefront, he was terrified." Paul explained.

"We were just there. Oswald's escorting Jack back to his home, he'll be fine." Pond walked past him but he took her arm with his hand.

"That's not good enough." Paul let go of her arm after realizing it might have been too bold of a move. "He found his car windows smashed in this morning. People in this town are already turning against him and they obviously know where he lives. An innocent man is being terrorized in his own home and you're doing nothing about it."

Pond glared at him. How dare he tell her how her job should be done. "You're so certain he's innocent?" She scoffed.

"You're so certain he's not?" Paul replied, his eyes filled with disappointment at Pond's indifferent attitude.

"Your concern has been noted, Vicar." She responded in a cold and uninterested manner as she flipped her hair and walked briskly back into the police station. Paul was left dumbfounded by her harshness towards him. After her breakdown the previous night, he expected her to be more open with him. Instead, she was as closed off as ever.

Mark Latimer called the station wanting to know the truth about Jack. In turn, Jack gave Pond permission to tell Mark the story of his late ex-wife and son. Mark came to Jack's home personally to speak to him. Fighting back tears, Mark warned him. "I think you're going to need to get out of here, Jack. It's not safe."

"This is my home, Mark. We're the same, you and I. No parent should outlive their child." Jack looked over Mark's shoulder to see a gang of men were walking towards his home.

"I've been hearing people talking and there's people in this town who've made up their minds to hunt you down." Mark spoke through his tears as best he could. He'd told the men yelling outside Jack's home to clear out and leave the old man alone. "I'm sorry, Jack." Mark sighed. "But if I were you, I'd get as far away from here as possible." Mark turned around at the men coming up Jack's driveway. "Leave now!" He yelled. They did as he said out of respect for Mark. They figured he was giving Jack what for himself, they had no idea about Jack's real past.

The next morning the detectives awoke to a bit of strange news. The boat that had been burned a few days back with Danny's DNA on it, it belonged to Clara's nephew, Ollie. The same young man who had given them the news about Jack's previous conviction. "If you decide to make the news about the boat public, can I have the story?" He was eager to get himself in the papers. He saw it only as a pursuit of his ambitions but Pond saw it as intrusive. He was far too excited about covering the details of the case and although there was no real evidence, she was willing to bet Ollie was behind the leaked info on Jack's past arrest.

"I just have one more question. Besides you and the rest of the Oswalds, who knew where your boat was kept?" Pond asked Ollie.

He replied with a shrug. "I rented it out all the time so most everyone in town has had a go on it. Last time I used it was about 3 months back with Joe, Tom and Danny. It was a great day, I got loads of fun pictures of us. It was the last time I spent any time with him." He then went off a list of people he remembered having borrowed the boat. Jack's name never came up but Paul Coates' did.


	11. The Sexiest Cop In Britain

Jack had spent the whole day locked up in his home. He didn't come out until about 3am, when he figured he'd be alone. He walked to his store and found a stack of magazines had just been dropped off for his store's inventory by the back door. He looked at the cover and fell to his knees weeping. It was an old photograph of Jack's late son in his ex-wife's arms with the headline, "The Child Bride of Broadchurch Jack." There was nothing left for him, he understood that now.

Pond and Oswald were called to the beach that morning as the sun rose to look at Jack's body. He'd jumped off the cliff and killed himself. To everyone's surprise, Pond shed a single tear through her cold stare. It was never Jack's fault, he was pushed to make this decision. Since he had no one else, Paul Coates set the arrangements for Jack's funeral service. Half the people who had formed mobs against Jack showed up, more out of guilt and remorse then out of genuine grief.

Pond looked at herself in the mirror of her hotel room as she straightened out her tight but professional, knee-length black dress. Her hair fell in soft red curls down her back and she even put on a little make up. Clara looked surprised to see her so dolled up as she walked into Pond's hotel room. Pond was always obviously attractive but she always wore a business pantsuit to work. Prior to the funeral service, Clara had been convinced that all Pond kept in her closet was a rack of black pant suits, dark blue if Pond was feeling particularly cheerful.

"Aren't you the sexiest cop in Britain!" Clara exclaimed.

Pond completely ignored Clara's compliment and went straight to business as usual. "Danny's killer will more than likely attend the funeral service, now with two deaths weighing on his conscience. Let's see who's looking worried."

The reverend walked up to the pulpit and looked over all the people at the service. He held tightly to the podium, his knuckles white. "We've assembled here today to share our grief and to celebrate the life of Jack Marshall." He began. "Jack was a good man, and as has been made clear since his death, an innocent man." His voice was calm but Pond was detecting a hint of anger in his tone. "We let him be smeared and intimidated, we weren't there when he needed us. Although we're here to celebrate his life, we must also admit that some of us have failed him." Paul's eyes fell directly on Pond as he said those words. He paused for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing. "The second commandment tells us to love thy neighbour as thyself. Now, in our darkest of times, we have to be better than this. If we're not a community of neighbours, we are nothing."

After the service, refreshments for the mourners were held at The Trader's Hotel. There was an area with a bar and some tables as well as a lounge room on the opposite end of the lobby. Guests were everywhere, so many that some sat on the staircase leading up to the bedrooms. Pond looked around through the sea of people, she found herself unsure of where to begin. She hated to admit, she was losing her footing on the case. She saw Rev. Coates sitting at the bar talking to Becca. Ms. Fisher handed Paul a glass of orange juice from behind the counter as they chuckled together. They seemed to make such an odd couple, the town homewrecker and the town vicar. They looked like they were good friends. Pond walked up as close as she could without interfering to listen in.

"Well done, you. You really gave us all what for." Becca smiled.

"I'm a little worried I might have sounded too harsh." Paul sipped his juice. "No one's ever going to want to speak to me again."

"Don't worry, I'll speak to you." Becca winked flirtatiously, making Paul look down at the ground with a shy smile on his face. Pond shook her head, it seemed Becca honestly flirted with any man she could get her hands on. Paul stood up and walked out into the lobby, walking past Detective Inspector Pond.

"That was quite the lecture you gave back there." Pond took hold of Paul's arm, forcing him to talk to her. "And I got the strangest feeling it was directed at me. Or is there some other reason why you couldn't take your eyes off me?"

Paul looked at her for a moment, a slow-burning rage growing in his eyes "I came to you and told you Jack needed protecting and you did nothing." The reverend scoffed and loosened the D.I.'s grip on his arm "I don't understand you." He walked off angrily.

Pond kept an eye on him the whole time. He went back to the bar for a second glass of orange juice and then sat on the staircase next to some of the boy's from the Sea Brigade. They were in their brigade uniforms in honor of their former troupe leader. They got to chatting a bit and the detective noticed Paul sitting very close to Tom as he spoke, even placing his hand on Tom's knee once before getting up and walking back to the bar for his third glass of orange juice.

Pond took the opportunity to sit beside Tom to get some information. "Was that Paul I just saw you with, do you two get along well?" She asked as Tom shook his head yes timidly. Pond sweetened her voice a bit more. "Do you think Danny got along with him?"

"I suppose so." Tom shrugged.

"Did you and Paul or Paul and Danny every hang out together outside of your computer class?" Pond inquired.

"I'm not sure... I..." Tom stopped talking as he noticed his dad walking up.

"What are you doing?" Oswald's husband looked a bit annoyed.

"We're just talking, Joe." Pond replied.

"I should hope so..." Joe looked at Tom. "Your mother's looking for you."

As Tom walked off to find his mother, Joe sat down beside Pond on the stairs. "I'm sure Clara would love to hear about how you attempted to interrogate our son without permission."

"Is that some sort of threat, Joe." Pond glared.

Joe scoffed. "Of course not." He chuckled a little. "Hey, I like you, ok? I'll let this go but just this once. Got it?"

"Got it." Pond forced a smile.


	12. Almost Everyone

Clara Oswald awoke the morning after the funeral to find her husband and eldest son weren't home. It was hardly 5 in the morning, far too early for Joe to be walking Tom to school. Tom used to skateboard with Danny to school but Joe had taken up walking him ever since the fall semester started. Being 12, Tom found it a little embarrassing to be escorted to class by his dad but he didn't bring it up. A lot of the other kids were suddenly being constantly guarded by their parents since Danny's death, he understood their reasons but it still drove him mad.

Oswald picked up her phone frantically, afraid something had happened to them, until she saw a note from Joe on the counter reading, 'Tom woke up around 4 and couldn't get back to sleep. Went to the skatepark before school.' Clara sighed with relief and got herself and baby Fred dressed to go meet Joe and Tom at the skatepark.

"I was worried when I woke up and didn't see you." Clara kissed her husband's cheek. She tried not to let it in but the case was making her think the worst of everything.

"Well, I figured Tom likes coming here, right? So maybe we'll make this a thing to do before school starts in the morning." Joe looked at Tom. "He's been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately, you know.."

"Yeah..." Clara watched her son jump a little ramp on his skateboard as Joe cheered him on. Tom was getting so big, she was only 17 when she had him. Just like Beth and her husband Mark, they'd been teenage parents. Clara worked her ass off to get through school and reach the position she's in now. Lucky for her, Joe was always willing to care for Tom while she was away.

"How are you feeling?" Joe asked. "You seemed very distant yesterday." He put his arm around his wife.

"I was just looking around at everyone after the funeral, walking around and having drinks at The Traders. I was thinking, the killer is in here so why can't I see him?" Clara bit her lip in frustration. "At this point, I suspect anyone and everyone."

"Well, when you say everyone..." Joe smiled.

"Almost everyone." Clara laughed as she hugged her husband.

"You know I'm available for rigorous questioning in the bedroom this evening." Joe took Clara by the waist. "Don't forget the handcuffs" He kissed his wife passionately.

"Eeeww! Dad!" Tom yelled from the other side of the skatepark.

Clara laughed again and pushed Joe away playfully. "I have to be off to work so I'll see you tonight... And I won't forget the handcuffs." She winked as she walked away.

Once at the office, Clara was pleasantly surprised to find that Pond had made her a cup of coffee. "Guess what I did last night, Oswald?" Pond handed Clara her coffee.

"With your chipper attitude I'm inclined to ask, who did you do last night?" Clara sipped her coffee.

Pond actually cracked a smile at the joke. "I was going through our list of suspects and thought, the vicar says he likes to go for walks at night when he's got insomnia. Since it's a weak story on it's own, I figured I'd find out where exactly he likes to walk to. Perhaps his usual midnight walks are truly as harmless and he makes them sound. But last night he didn't walk, he drove all the way over the border to Somerset for a meeting."

"What sort of meeting?" Clara sat at the break room table.

"Alcoholics Anonymous, our young vicar is an alcoholic." Pond explained.

"Well, at least he's going to meetings. That means he's recovering so that's a good thing, right?" Clara shrugged. "If you're going to include alcoholics as suspects you'll have to add half the people in this police station to our list."

"We need a full background check on this guy, the last parish he worked in, speeding tickets, ex-girlfriends, overdue library books... I need definitive proof that he's clean before I can take him off this list." Pond ordered and briskly walked back to her office.

SOCO found traces of a cleaning product matching the product used to clean Danny's body of prints both in the hut on Briar Cliff and in Ollie's boat. The whole murder was sloppy and it seemed more than likely some sort of accident gone wrong. As Pond looked over the list of people who rented the boat from Ollie and Paul's name continued to stick out. She felt it a probable enough cause to question him further so she headed back to the church that afternoon.

It was near sunset and Paul was sitting at a bench out by the cemetery, reading from his tablet. She explained the situation with the boat. "I did rent his boat once, almost a year ago." Paul stood up from his bench. "After I moved here I thought, I'm always lived a landlocked sort of life so I ought to learn how to use a boat and such since I'm living by the beach now. I decided I'd try fishing so I took the boat and a rod and caught nothing" He chuckled. "Caught a nice sunburn though."

"So for how long have you been going to alcoholics anonymous?" Pond quickly ended the small talk.

Paul slowly walked towards her. "You had me followed?" His voice was a low and angry whisper. "I complain about your failings with Jack Marshall and you come after me."

"Why do you drive all the way to Yoville?" Pond wasn't deterred from her line of questioning.

"For the privacy!" Paul raised his voice. "If I did it here I'd run the risk of running into my own parishioners, not very anonymous."

"So you weren't wandering around in the middle of the night drunk on the night of Danny's death?" Pond asked.

Paul swallowed a lump in his throat. "I haven't had a drink in 472 days." His voice began to shake, as if the weight of every day was falling on top of him.

"We ran a background check on you, Paul. Says you once assaulted a child while you were drunk." Pond's calm and direct tone also began to waver as well.

"That was an accident gone wrong." Paul explained. "He was 14 and twice my size. The boy was drinking at a bar with a fake I.D. and trying to pick a fight with me. He took a swing at me and I swung back. I would never knowingly hurt a child, never!"

"Be that as it may, you still don't have a clear alibi for the night of Danny's death." Pond seemed completely unfazed by the tears Paul was working to hold back.

"Why would I kill him?" Paul's voice fell to a whisper. "What possible reason could you dream up for me to murder an 11 year old boy?"

"Just come to the station tomorrow morning to provide a DNA sample. Then maybe we can eliminate you from suspicion." Cold as ever, Pond turned around and flipped her hair as she walked back to her car.


	13. Examination Room

Paul walked into the examination room hoping it would be anyone but Pond doing the DNA test. But his luck being the joke that it was, he opened the door to find Pond fiddling with a cotton swab inside a sterile plastic wrapper. "This won't take long. Have a seat." She pointed to the grey metal chair beside the grey metal table in the center of the room. Everything in the room was grey and cold. Pond leaned down and took the cotton swab out of the plastic. "Have you had anything to eat or drink in the last hour?" She asked. Paul shook his head no. "Open up." Pond ordered and Paul obeyed.

Paul had done this before, the first time he was arrested. He'd have to leave his mouth open for a full minute while she rubbed the cotton swab on the inside of his mouth, 30 seconds for each side of his inner cheek. She took that minute where he was unable to speak as an opportunity. "So what's your story, Coates?" She asked. "Did religion overcome the booze?" She paused for a moment and switched to the other cheek. "Sounds more like you traded in one addiction for another." She let him stew in silence for 20 seconds as she finished the DNA swab.

"You take some sort of sick pleasure out of trying to rile me up, don't you?" Paul watched as Pond put the sample back in the sterile bag. "What have you got against me?" He asked.

"You were just so eager to jump in front of the cameras when this story broke out." Pond scoffed. "You wanted to claim the spotlight for your church and the Latimer's came running to you for help like flies to fresh pile of shite. I see it happen all the time, tragedy strikes and the church joins in gleefully. Because suddenly, everyone's finally paying attention to you."

Paul shook his head in disbelief. "You have no concept of faith, do you? I wasn't trying to muscle in, they turned to me. People who didn't normally think about religion came to me asking for me to speak with them, for me to listen to their concerns. You know why they came to me?" Paul stood up and faced her. "Because they had fears that you couldn't address. Because all you have is bitter suspicions and the urge to blame anyone in closest proximity. Accuse me and take all the samples you want. Go ahead and belittle the man I was in the past!" Paul slammed his hand down on the metal table. "But you do not get to belittle my faith just because you have none!"

Pond stood in silence and attempted to keep up the facade of being unfazed. But in all honesty, she had been moved. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, he truly had faith in his convictions. Paul's eyes searched her for something, a glimmer of an emotion. But he couldn't find a single thing. "Are we done?" He asked as coldly as Pond spoke with him. He looked again at her emotionless stare and scoffed. He walked out the door and slammed it on the way out.

Pond collapsed into the metal chair next to her and began to weep. It lasted no more than a minute as she quickly composed herself with a deep breath and walked out the door of the examination room to deliver the DNA test.

Reverend Coates ran into D.S. Oswald on his way out of the police station. "How do you deal with her?" He asked.

"Who, Pond?" Clara scoffed. "I figured if there was anyone who knew how to pray for a little miracle everyday, it'd be you, Vicar." She smiled.

"It's just... for a moment I almost felt like..." The reverend could hardly put it in words. The warmth he'd felt in the jokes they shared, the way she'd leaned on him and wept, the way she'd looked at him when he wiped her tears away. What he thought he felt must have not been nearly as important as he'd thought it was. Yet something pulled him towards her after all she'd put him through. Perhaps it was a sign, maybe God was saying something. Or perhaps it was his newest addiction rearing it's ugly head, he always seemed to be a glutton for punishment. "It was like.." He continued trying to explain. "She got close enough to make me feel something and then she turned around and grabbed my still beating heart out of my chest. And without a single trace of remorse on her face."

"What did she do to you in there?" Clara's eyes widened. She watched the reverend shrug as he stared at the ground as if defeated. She tried to hide the smile creeping up on her face, she wasn't a detective for nothing. He had feelings for Pond and if she'd learned to understand Pond at all in their two months working together, she was more than likely hiding feelings for him behind her stone cold exterior. "I'm trying to be a friend to her but I think she might actually be physically allergic to kindness." Oswald joked.

Paul chuckled. "Well, if there was anyone I could count on to soften a bitter heart, it would be you, Mrs. Oswald." He smiled timidly and nodded a goodbye as he walked off.

Clara walked into the station, found Pond in her office and stomped in. "What in God's name have you done to Paul?" She crossed her arms.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're on about, Oswald." Pond sipped her coffee without taking her eyes off her computer screen.

"Will you cut your bullshit ice queen routine already? It's getting old." Clara raised her voice at her boss, making her take her gaze off the computer. "You better get your act together and stop hurting the only people in this town who actually care about you or you're going to end up alone the rest of your life!" Clara stomped away with her heels clicking down the hall.

Pond smiled into her coffee for a moment. It felt good to think she had two people who cared. They were both so genuinely good, it nearly drove her mad with confusion. It just couldn't be possible that such perfect people could exist. Maybe that's why she took so much pleasure in making them angry, anger was the only thing that made any sense to her.


	14. Are You Feeling A Moment?

Paul was making his way home from the police station and chose to take a shortcut through the field between the church and the Latimer's house. "Vicar?" A voice turned him around. It was Oswald's son, Tom. "Can I ask you a question?" He said.

"Sure.. " Paul felt a sudden unease at talking to him. Having just been interrogated under suspicion of abusing and killing a child, being seen talking to Tom in the field standing between his church and the Latimer's home might spark some other unwanted speculations. "What sort of question is it?" Paul asked.

"It's a technical question about computers and stuff." Tom explained. "If you delete something from a hard drive, is it gone forever? I'm asking because my dad deleted something important." He said.

Paul smiled feeling that Tom was using the 'asking for someone else' trick to cover something up. He more than likely had deleted something himself and feared the repercussions, Paul thought. "Deleting something doesn't exactly make it disappear forever." Paul explained. "Any computer specialist with the right recovery tools can retrieve files deleted from a hard drive. If your dad needs help with his computer, I'm available. And I won't charge you this time." Paul joked.

"Thanks." Tom smiled shyly and began to walk back home.

Paul spent the next 2 days at home, feeling the need to just lay low for a while. He didn't come outside at all until he heard a knocking at his door around 5 in the afternoon. He looked out the peephole to see D.I. Pond standing at his door. He slowly opened the door. "Good evening, Inspector. Finally come to arrest me, have you?" He made no attempt at hiding his irritation.

Something in the pride with which Pond usually carried herself had diminished. "No, the test was negative and besides... I... I've come to make an apology."

"Did Clara put you up to this?" Paul scoffed.

"Oswald has nothing to do with my decision to apologize." Pond replied. "My behaviour as of late has been unprofessional. I've let my personal emotions get in the way of properly doing my job."

"Your emotions? Do you actually get those?" Paul was seething with sarcasm.

"You know for a fact that I do. You've seen me break." Pond replied angrily. This was the first time she even vaguely mentioned the night she confessed the loss of her child to him. "You've seen me at my worse."

"You're right. Sorry." Paul softened his tone. "And showing your fragility isn't always the worst, you know."

"I was afraid I was starting to feel a bit too close to you and decided it was better for me to distance myself." This was the first time Pond even vaguely insinuated she'd developed feelings for the vicar. "After I learned about your past alcohol abuse, I thought I'd finally found a good reason to hate you. But I never really hated you, I was projecting my anger onto you but it wasn't you... not really.." Pond's voice fell to a whisper. "My father was an alcoholic, a violent one."

"Mine too." The vicar's eyes suddenly felt as if they might water. He understood the anger she felt and how strong it was. "I've been unfortunate enough to inherit my father's weaknesses but I swore to God Almighty that I would never let myself be like him, never." Paul looked down at the ground for a moment. "So I get it... I won't blame you for hating me. I used to hate me too."

"You're not like him." Pond replied. "Maybe you see something of him in you and it scares you because, if your father was anything like mine, all you see is a monster. You don't want to admit there's something bad inside you because you want to be good. I can see that you're genuinely trying to be good, that counts for something I think. I've never met a single person who was all good or all bad. But I think I can safely say that you're one of the good ones." Pond saw the vicar smile at her kind words and she smiled too. "Well, we make a fine couple of sob stories. Don't we, Reverend." She joked.

"Did I hear that right?" Paul crossed his arms and leaned up against the doorframe. "Do you really think we make a fine couple? I might be wrong but I'm feeling a moment between us. Are you feeling a moment?"

Pond laughed at his attempt at flirting. "Alright, I may or may not have entertained the notion but don't press your luck." She began to sound like her old tough self again.

"Right." Paul replied, straightening up. "It's no pressure, of course." Paul suddenly remembered the chinese menu in his back pocket. "Oh hey, I was about to order in before you knocked. Can I ask if you'd like to join me?" He handed her the menu.

She looked it over with her typical uninterested demeanor. "I'll have the lo mein." She handed him back the menu curtly.

"Mind if we split an order of dumplings or is that too forward?" Paul lightened the mood. "It's just that I never finish them and they never really taste as good when you reheat them the next day."

"I guess it'd be a real shame to let the dumplings go to waste." Pond let herself smile.

Seeing that he was finally breaking the ice, Paul tested the waters. "Alright, sounds great." He started. "Now I'd gladly pay for the whole thing, that is... if we were a couple. But since we're not, it's only fair that you have your share of the money ready when the food gets here."

Pond chuckled. "Are you trying to entice me into dating you with the prospect of free chinese food?"

"Oh, heavens no. I wouldn't dream of it." Paul smiled. "Next thing I know, you'll have me arrested for attempted bribery."

Pond laughed as she walked in through the front door into his living room. "Keep making me laugh and you might just get lucky, Vicar." She handed Paul her coat.

"You know, I think at this point we can skip the formalities. You can call me Paul if you want." Paul hung Pond's coat on the rack by the front door. "Actually, I don't really know your name. Everyone just calls you Pond."

Pond sighed, noticing Paul was waiting for her to tell him what it was. "It's Amelia. I hate my name."

Paul shrugged. "How about Amy then, can I call you Amy or is that me being too forward again?" He sat down on the couch and picked up the phone to dial the restaurant.

"I... I guess you could." She sat down on the couch beside him. "Have you accepted my apology?" Amy asked.

Paul chuckled. "I thought it was obvious."

Amy smiled. "Thank you, Paul."


	15. The Worst Was Fast Approaching

Amy Pond had a wonderful night awkwardly knocking chopsticks with Paul as they tried to share an order of dumplings and beef lo mein. She was now more than certain that Paul wasn't involved in Danny's death. She'd just needed proof beyond a shadow of a doubt before she could let herself fall for him. As she walked back to the hotel and thought of how sweet he was, she was nearly brought to tears. But they were tears of joy, for the first time in years, she finally felt genuine happiness. She feared getting swept away in it, she could sense that something bad was still on the horizon. Danny's killer had yet to be caught and Pond knew the worst was fast approaching.

Paul Coates was having trouble sleeping after Amy left but this time it was more out of excitement then depression. He'd had a good time with Amy, he hadn't been on a date with anyone in years. He didn't want to get too excited about it of course. They didn't even kiss goodnight, it was more of a meal shared between good friend than a serious romantic dinner. But he really felt something for her and hoped she felt something too.

His inability to sleep lead him down the dark path in a patch of woods heading towards the church. He heard something like a crunching sound, like something plastic being hit by a rock. "Hello?" He took out his mobile phone and turned on the light. "Tom?" He asked, confused to see Clara's son out in the woods in the middle of the night. "What are you doing?" He flashed the light on his mobile to the twisted up pile of broken laptop on the ground.

"Nothing... just go away!" Tom quickly tried to grab the broken laptop but Paul was faster and much taller. He held it up over his head as Tom tried in vain to reach it. "Give it back!" Tom yelled.

"Explain why you're mysteriously destroying a laptop under cover of darkness and maybe I'll give it back." Paul replied.

"It's none of your business!" Tom yelled still trying to reach the laptop hanging nearly 2 feet over his head.

"It's sort of my business because my church is right over there and this is technically near the church's property so..." Paul pointed to the old stone building up ahead. "Do you want to come inside and calmly explain to me what you're up to?" Reluctantly, Tom agreed to follow the vicar into the church. Paul took the broken laptop and put it in an old box which he then put on the highest shelf in his office. "Start talking..." Paul crossed his arms as Tom sat on the couch in the vicar's office.

"It's my laptop and I can do what I want with it!" Tom gave him attitude.

"Don't you think your mother might be a little upset to find that you've smashed a perfectly good laptop that probably cost her a lot of money?" Paul suddenly remembered what Tom had asked him before about retrieving deleted files from hard drives. "Are you... you're hiding something, aren't you? There's something in that computer you don't want anyone to see. Am I right?" He asked, growing worried.

"It's nothing." Tom scoffed. "And you can't tell my mum."

"I most certainly can." Paul scoffed right back.

"No you can't." Tom stood up and walked right up to the vicar. "If you tell anyone about the laptop, I promise that you'll regret it."

"Are you trying to threaten me, Tom?" Paul replied. He was incredibly surprised by Tom's behaviour. He wouldn't have expected it from Clara's son. As a former student, Tom was an intelligent and well behaved kid. Except for one time when he had to break up a small fight between him and Danny, he didn't know why they'd been arguing. He didn't think to ask, sometimes kids just get into arguments. Paul got to thinking, had Tom and Danny gotten into another fight before Danny's death? He couldn't imagine Tom having anything to do with the boy's death but there was obviously something shady about his current situation. "Did you destroy the laptop under someone else's orders or was this completely your idea?" He asked wondering if perhaps the killer was coercing Tom into destroying evidence on the case.

"No one's making me do anything!" Tom replied angrily. "But if you tell mum about the laptop, I'll tell everyone you did things to me. I'll tell them you touched me and that you liked touching Danny too."

"How could you say that?" Paul gasped in horror at Tom's outburst. "You wouldn't dare..."

"Are you scared?" Tom whispered. "Ask your God to protect you." With that, Tom walked out of Paul's office and back out into the woods to his house. When he arrived, he found his mother was running to get dressed. "What... what's wrong?" Tom asked.

"I got a call from work, it's nothing to worry about." Clara turned back around as she put on her coat. "Did you come through the front door? Were you out just now? It's well passed midnight, Tom! I thought you were in bed!"

"I'm sorry...I.." Tom was cut off.

"Just go to your room, I'll deal with you later." Clara scolded him.

"Where's dad?" Tom asked.

"He's at the pub with some mates of his." Clara explained. "Don't you think that talking to him is going to give you a lighter sentence because you are totally grounded for sneaking out, understand?"

"Yes, mam..." Tom shuffled up the stairs to his room.

Clara had received a call that someone had broken into the crime scene at the hut on Briar Cliff. She arrived and saw Pond already there, she was in her car with the lights off watching the hut. Clara slowly walked to her car and tapped the glass. Pond slowly stepped out. "An anonymous tip came in and I rushed over. I saw a torch moving around in there but I wasn't about to sneak up on him without my backup." Pond smiled at Oswald. "Now let's catch this son of a bitch."


	16. Jealous

Pond and Oswald quietly walked up to the hut and knocked on the door. "Come out slowly with your hands where we can see them." Oswald spoke through the door. "Let's do this calmly and no one gets hurt."

Just then, a man dressed in black from head to toe pushed the front door open and ran. Clara was momentarily knocked down but Pond helped her up as they began to run after the masked intruder. He ran into the boat yard and hid behind them. Pond slowly walked through the maze of boats. Suddenly, she was pushed up against the side of a vessel by the assailant. She went to punch him but he blocked her punch and pushed her up against the metal siding of the boat a second time. Everything went fuzzy and Pond fell to the ground.

"We need back up now! We've got an officer down!" Clara Oswald yelled into her radio as Oswald ran to Pond, she was lying on the ground unconscious. "Don't you dare die on me, Pond." Oswald checked her heartbeat, Pond was bleeding out the back of her head. The backup arrived and combed the nearby cliffs for signs of the mystery man. They found nothing but imprints of size 10 shoes at the scene.

"What happened?" Pond slowly opened her eyes in her hospital bed.

"You nearly died on me last night." Clara handed Pond a bag of grapes.

"So what are you giving me grapes for?" Pond rolled her eyes.

Having had enough of Pond's seemingly ungrateful attitude, Oswald scoffed. "Oh, no reason. I was just hoping you'd choke on the seeds."

Pond picked up the bag of white grapes. "Says they're seedless." Pond replied as if she hadn't picked up on Clara's attempt at a facetious comeback.

"You have a concussion and a contusion to the head, you were bleeding out last night after that bastard threw you." Clara spoke very matter of factly even though deep down she felt like she might cry. For a brief moment, she'd thought she'd lost Pond and she didn't realize how much that meant to her until then.

"Amy?" Paul came in through the door to Pond's hospital room. "Can I come in?"

"Who's Amy?" Clara looked confused.

"He's talking to me." Pond slowly sat up in her hospital bed. "Uugh!" Pond heard a ringing in her ears from the concussion. "No, this is ridiculous, I have to get back to work." Pond started to get up. Both Clara and Paul stopped her and made her lay back down. Pond was suddenly dizzy from having attempted to stand up. "Ok, maybe a bad idea." She sighed. "But we have to finish this. It was the killer we say last night, I just know it."

"I can handle the job on my own for a few days." Clara replied.

"You can handle my job?" Amelia Pond scoffed.

"You have no idea what I can or can't handle." Clara got up angrily from her chair beside the bed.

Amy picked at her I.V. "Get this off me! I'm fine!"

"You have to rest." Paul took her hands in his as he sat down in the chair beside the hospital bed. "You keep pushing yourself like this and you might get yourself killed."

"If that's what it takes to win this..." Pond replied in a faint whisper, it was all she could muster at the moment.

"Ssshh. You can win this, I know you can." Paul put his hand over Amy's forehead, checking her temperature. "Just let Clara take the reigns for a day or two. I'm sure she'll do a fine job." He looked up at Clara with a smile.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Clara looked a little confused by the vicar and Pond suddenly acting so close. And, Amy? She was still making her call her Pond and Paul suddenly moved up to nickname statue? She felt almost jealous. Something had happened between them in the last 2 days that she'd totally missed. "If you don't mind, Vicar. I need to talk to Pond about some personal details regarding the case." Paul nodded and walked out. Clara put her hands on her hips. "So what's all this then?"

"What's all what, Oswald?" Pond rolled her eyes.

"Are you suddenly best friends with the vicar, Amy?" Clara said her name as if it were an insult.

"We had dinner, he was nice..." Pond smiled feeling a little woozy still. "He invited me in and I couldn't resist. He's so sweet, it's infuriating!"

"I invite you to dinner and I get nothing." Clara scoffed. "He invites you to dinner and you give each other pet names?"

Pond chuckled. "Were you hoping for a goodnight kiss after our dinner, Clara? Don't be jealous, I didn't give Paul anything more than a peck on the cheek. You're still my number one girl."

"Ugh! Fine. Your personal life is none of my business." Clara began to walk to the door. "I'll see you in 2 days." She walked out the door and ran into Paul waiting in the hallway. Clara glared at him. "So, how was your little date with Detective Pond?"

"It was nice, actually." Paul replied, not realizing Clara's internal frustration. "I mean, I'm not sure if it was a date exactly, there was a little bit of flirting but it was really vague and you know how she is. One minute you think you're in and the next..." Paul stopped realizing he was talking too much. "What did she say? Did she say it was a date?"

"She said it was dinner." Clara raised an eyebrow.

"Figured as much." Paul shrugged.

Clara noticed Paul's disappointment and softened a bit. "Don't worry, Paul. She likes you." Oswald reassured him. "She said you were so sweet, it was infuriating. I think that's Pond for 'I love you' "


	17. A Ticking Time Bomb

Clara had left the hospital and gone back to work while Pond had been told to stay in bed. But Amelia Pond took off all the wires she had on her and quickly discharged herself, against the doctor's orders. She walked out the back door of the hospital to find the vicar smoking around the corner. "Amy, what are you...?" He suddenly noticed the cigarette in his hand and dropped it, snuffing it out with his foot. "I'm giving it up, honestly." He blushed a little in embarrassment. "You've got a concussion, go back to bed."

"I feel fine and I don't need all those machines on me. Drive me back to the hotel, I can rest there just fine." Amy smiled at Paul. "And you know I don't really care that you take a secret smoke break now and again. It's quite funny the way you try to hide it, it's almost endearing."

"I'll take you home then... the hotel, I mean." He chuckled nervously.

"What would be most comfortable for you?" Amelia Pond asked in an almost seductive tone the made Paul blush again. She smiled, noticing his nervousness. "Would it be out of the question to let me sleep over? The Traders is starting to raise their prices. I thought about finding a more permanent place here but I'm afraid if you do, I'll never leave this town again."

"It's not so bad, living here." Paul smiled. "I'll take you to The Traders. I really can't have anyone seeing a woman leaving my home in the early morning hours in the same clothes she came in the night before. Tongues will wag."

They got in Paul's car and drove back to The Traders. "Paul, I know we got off to a rather terrible start but..." She suddenly seemed uncharacteristically shy "Can I give you a kiss goodbye? " Amy asked while seated in the passenger seat. "That's all, just one. I'm not inviting you up to the room or anything."

"Just one..." Paul replied as they leaned in their car seats and kissed. Amy leaned back in and gave him a second one by surprise and then quickly left the vehicle, slamming the door behind her. The vicar wasn't sure how to feel, Pond was so unstable. She was always wound up so tight for fear that she might fall apart. But that was the thing that drew her to him. He wanted to be the one she came to when things fell apart, but Paul also had the terrible habit of obsessing over things that drove him to destruction. Amy felt like a ticking time bomb.

While Clara was in charge of the case on her own, she was determined to prove she could handle the situation with no help from Pond. Even so, she found herself growing more and more nervous about her abilities. An eerie sort of woman by the name of Susan Wright had told the police she'd seen something relevant to the Latimer case. But she was very odd and when they search her home, she had Danny's old skateboard in her possession. The whole thing seemed shady from the start.

"Why do you have Danny's skateboard in your possession?" Clara questioned her at the station. "We found paint chips in the boat used to transport Danny's body that matched those of the skateboard. So you see how we could easily jump the the conclusion that you have something to do with all this."

"I was there... I didn't kill him." She started. "I was walking my dog, must have been 2 or 3 in the morning. I saw a small motorboat come up to shore and a man carrying the body. He laid it out on the beach."

"Who did?" Clara asked.

"Tall man, medium build, bald." Susan replied.

"If you saw this why didn't you tell us?" Clara shook her head in confusion.

"He looked peaceful." Susan replied blankly. "He was beautiful." She whispered.

"As a mother, I cannot understand how you could just stand there and look at Danny's body and keep walking." Clara's eyes were wide with terror.

"I was a mother once." Susan started. "My husband, he raped and murdered our daughter... He's serving life now..." Susan's eyes started to water. "I liked how peaceful Danny looked. I know my daughter didn't." Tears rolled down her face.

"Living with that man, being married to him... How could you not know what he was capable of?" Clara asked, she herself holding back tears as best she could.

"That's what the police said to me. They said I knew something, claimed I'd been covering it up. But I didn't know." She spoke through her tears in short gasps for breath.

Clara placed her hand over Susan's. "Thank you for your help." Clara whispered. Perhaps it was true, the things Pond had said before. Anyone could be capable of anything with the appropriate catalyst to spark the fire. Oswald was a naive, small town cop who'd never dealt with anything so terrifying in her life. That's why Pond was the way she was. What things had Pond seen? Things Clara could scarcely imagine in her wildest nightmares. Clara knew Pond had lost a child, but how and when? As the sun set on that day, Clara thought to call D.I. Pond to check in on her.

"Hello?" Amy answered her mobile.

"How are you, Pond? Well, enough to go over some important breakthroughs with me?" Clara asked.

"Oh, yes sure. I'm at The Traders, by the bar with the reverend and Ms. Fisher." Pond replied. "Just drinking an orange juice, isn't that right, Paul?"

"You discharged yourself against the doctor's orders?" Clara rolled her eyes. "I'm coming over, I have a big lead to share with you and I think we're getting really close to solving this."

"Amazing! Brilliant news, Oswald!" Pond exclaimed. "Another glass of Merlot, please, Ms. Fisher."

"I thought you just had orange juice." Clara scoffed.

"No, the reverend is having orange juice." Pond replied. "Heading back to my room after this last glass to discuss the case. I'm all business, you know that, Oswald." Pond hung up without saying goodbye. Pond turned to Paul and Becca. "Sorry to leave you all so soon, but I've got a very important meeting with D.S. Oswald. If we're lucky, we'll blow this case wide open in no time. Here I was worried it was growing cold."


	18. An Ungodly Hour

"Oh sorry, Vicar." Clara Oswald nearly ran into Paul as he was walking out and she was entering The Traders Hotel. "How's your new best friend doing?" Clara crossed her arms as she asked.

"I'm getting a sense of disapproval." Paul smiled. "You're not jealous, are you? I'm not Amy's new partner or anything, business partner.. or crime solving partner, I mean..." Paul tripped over his words. "Um.. so I'll leave you two to your work then." He blushed and quickly walked away as Clara rolled her eyes and turned towards the staircase leading up to Amy's room. She told Amy about the description.

"So, we're looking for a man in his 30's with size 10 shoes, about 5'9" with a medium build and bald or shaved head." The wheels clicked in Amy's head and she was piecing together the worst idea.

"That basically describes Mark's friend Nigel, the one who had the alibi ready for him about the affair." Clara added.

"You're right there." Pond replied. "I think that's a reasonable excuse to bring him in for questioning." With that, Pond dismissed Oswald to try and get some rest. But Amy noticed a text had arrived on her mobile while she'd been changing into her night gown.

It was Paul, "I can't believe I forgot to tell you! I have something important for you at the church. It may be a piece of evidence for the Latimer case. Also, it may have to do with The Oswalds."

Amy texted back, "If you could write a general physical description of Clara's husband, what would you write?"

"White male in his mid 30's, medium height and build, shaved head. Why are you asking?" He texted back.

Amy quickly picked up her phone and called Paul. "I'm coming to the church now!" Amy spoke the second he picked up and hung up as soon as she was done without waiting for a reply. Amy's mind raced as she drove to the church. If what Amy was thinking was right, it would destroy Oswald forever. Pond reached the church and Paul was already waiting outside with a box in hand.

"I found Tom trying to destroy this with a rock. He was on the path I normally walk at night. He said that..." Paul paused and his voice fell to a whisper. "He said if I gave this to you he'd accuse me of hurting Danny." Paul handed Amy the box filled with pieces of broken laptop. "I've seen him get into altercations with the other kids before but that was sort of terrifying actually. I don't think I've ever been scared of a child before."

"Wait, you've seen Tom getting into fights at school?" Amy asked.

"I had to break up a fight between Tom and Danny once actually." The vicar replied. "I don't know what they were arguing about but Tom was definitely the one antagonizing Danny."

Amy thanked Paul for his help and began to walk away. But she couldn't help but stop for a moment and turned back around. "Sure I can't stay with you tomorrow?" She asked. "I... I think I might ... nevermind." She started to walk away again. "No, wait.." She spun back around. "Clara's right and you're right. I have to cut the crap already and stop pretending I don't care about anything. I like you, Paul and I'm coming over tomorrow night after work because I want to be with you. Ok? There I said it, ugh!" She acted like it physically pained her to say it.

Paul smiled. "Then I guess I'll see you then." He walked back into the church and shut the door behind him. He sighed as he leaned up against the large wooden door. He liked the way she'd made it a demanding statement, not a question. She was coming over, end of story. There was a volatile nature about Amelia Pond that excited the vicar. He shook his head and looked up at the ceiling. "Why is it I'm only ever attracted to things that might kill me?" He whispered, thinking aloud. He usually found himself speaking to God when he was alone. He'd through the odd concern or question up at Him and waited in silence in hope of an answer. He didn't get a reply this time.

Amy came to visit him every night the upcoming week. The first three nights, they talked for hours. The fourth night, they kissed goodbye. The last three nights, Amy had gotten really good at rolling out of bed without waking him. She wasn't trying to run away before sunrise in an attempt to dodge him, she was thinking about what he'd said. Imagine the small town gossip if anyone caught sight of her leaving his house as such an ungodly hour.

Back at the police station, Mark's friend Nigel, who fit the description of Susan Wright's eye witness account, was brought in for more questioning. The giddiness D.I. Pond felt after leaving the vicar's house to run to work, didn't soften her tone when questioning the suspect. "Run me through were you were the night Danny was killed."

"At home with my mum watching tele." Nigel was obviously nervous.

"Well, you know I have a difficult time believing you since you were so quick to lie to us about Mark's alibi last time we spoke." Pond stared him down. "We have Susan Wright's eye witness account that you were seen dragging Danny's body to shore. We showed her your photograph and she says it was definitely you she saw."

"Well, she's lying!" Nigel started to break down. "He's my best mate's boy. Why would I do that?"

"Does Susan Wright have any reason to accuse you of murder?" Pond asked.

Tears began to stream down Nigel's face. "She said she's my mum, my real mum. I didn't know I was adopted until she moved in a few months back." He stiffened his lip and stopped his crying as best he could. "I was nowhere near that beach that night. That woman doesn't know anything about me and I don't even know who she is."

"Do you want to know, Nigel?" Pond slid a folder filled with information about Susan Wright's family. Information about Nigel's birth father, the man who tortured and killed the sister Nigel never got to meet. "It's all in there. That's your family, Nige."


	19. Where's The Computer?

"You must know Nigel well to be able to identify him from so far a distance." Clara spoke with Susan Wright in the interrogation room opposite Nigel's.

"I had a son, he was a baby when everything happened 25 years ago. They took him away from me. They said I was an unfit mother." Susan was done crying. She spoke with a deadpan expression when recounting her past horrors. "He didn't react well when I told him. He said he wanted nothing to do with me."

Clara gave a sympathetic nod but reminded herself to keep her distance. For all she knew, Susan might be working with Nige. She was trying to balance empathy with professionalism. "Does Nigel know about the murders, about your family's history?" Clara asked.

"Don't you dare tell him." Susan's eyes lit up with fear.

"Right." Clara nodded again. "Now I'm having trouble understanding why you would accuse your own long lost son of murder. After all, you've spent so many years tracking him down and trying to reconcile with him." Clara thought of Tom. "I'm a mum and no matter what my son did I'd be trying to protect him."

"I came forward because I'm scared for him." Susan explained as she began to break down again. "Because it's not his fault. If he's his father's son, what is he capable of?"

Again on the verge of tears, Clara stopped the interview and met Pond in the hallway as they walked back to her office. Pond let it slip that she'd told Nigel the truth about his family. She let him look at the files with all the newspaper articles about the murders. "You told him!" Clara yelled angrily.

"He wanted to know!" Pond replied just as loudly.

Clara paced as she continued to yell. "I promised Susan I wouldn't tell him! I was trying to gain her trust!"

"And I was trying to gain his!" Pond yelled back and noticed her office door was wide open and everyone in the station was listening in and trying to peek inside. Quickly she slammed the door shut.

"Besides, I don't believe Nige is capable of murder." Clara's voice went soft.

Pond scoffed and sat at her desk. "Everyone we've interviewed is capable of murder under the right circumstances."

Clara shook her head and fell onto an armchair opposite Pond's desk. "If that's really your view of the world, I don't know how you get to sleep at night."

"Who says I sleep?" Pond spoke as she looked over the newest files on her desk. She paused, stunned by a new development. "Have you seen this?" She handed Clara the paper. "The phone call, the anonymous tip telling us the hut was being broken into. It's Danny's phone."

"But Jack gave us Danny's phone..." Oswald replied.

"It didn't have a sim card in it when we found it." Pond explained. "We assumed it had been disposed of to destroy evidence but I can't believe it didn't cross my mind to think that the killer kept it." She leaned back and placed her hands over her face in frustration. "Why would the killer call us to tell us where he was and then run away when he saw us?" Ponds phone rang cutting her off. "Hello?" It was the results of the hard drive search on Danny's computer. "Send it to my personal e-mail." Pond replied and quickly hung up. She didn't want to explain it to Clara yet, Pond needed to know what was going on first. Oswald's son was acting suspiciously and Pond still didn't know why. She didn't want to upset Clara without having all the details to explain it. Instead she waited until the end of the night when Clara was grabbing her things to go home. "Did Danny and Tom have a falling out?" Pond asked. "It's just that Paul said earlier that he had to break up a fight between them when he was teaching their computer class."

Clara raised an eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips. "First you think Paul's a suspect and now you take his word over mine? What has he done to you?"

Pond's eyes narrowed. "Well, prove him wrong then. When was the last time Danny came over to play with Tom before he died?"

"Like three months before maybe... maybe a little longer..." Clara started to see how Paul might have been telling the truth but she wasn't about to admit Pond was right.

"Well, can we have your son's laptop? It may have emails or texts from Danny that we could use." Pond asked.

"Yeah, sure." Clara walked away quickly, wanting to end the conversation.

The way that Oswald agreed to let them look at her son's computer suggested that she knew nothing about Tom's attempt to crush it to pieces in the woods. That was a sigh of relief for Pond, who was beginning to fear the Oswald's were somehow involved in this mess. At least Pond was certain that Clara had nothing to do with it.

Clara was up early the next morning looking for her son's laptop and couldn't find anything. She got her husband, Joe to help look for it. He was looking under Tom's bed when Tom came in. "Dad, get out of my room!" Tom yelled.

"Where's your laptop?" Joe replied.

"Why?" Tom asked.

"Mom needs it for part of the investigation." Joe stood back up.

Tom's face turned red. "It's not here...I...I.." He stuttered. "I lost it." He whispered.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Joe crossed his arms.

"You've both had a lot on your mind so..." Tom's father slowly walked up to him.

"Don't lie to me, Tom." Joe put his hands on his son's shoulders. "Now tell me honestly, where's the computer?"

Tom swore up and down that it had been stolen. Clara had to come into work to tell Pond the news. "Do you believe him when he says it was stolen?" Pond questioned Clara.

Oswald looked down at the ground and sighed. "No, I don't believe him."


	20. You've Got A Scandal

Pond ran into the church, her heart pounding in her chest. "Paul?" Her voice echoed through the stone and stained glass corridors. "Paul!" She started to walk faster and faster towards his office.

"What's happened?" Paul ran towards her and scooped her up in a hug. "Amy, what is it?" He walked her to his office and sat her down on the couch beside his desk.

"I... don't know how I ..." Pond took a deep breath. "I let it happen again, I got emotional. I shouldn't have gotten involved."

"You mean involved with me, don't you?" Paul sat beside her. "I really care for you, you know. Don't ask me why because you're incredibly difficult." He chuckled making Amy smile too. Paul sighed fearing the worst. "Go ahead and let me have it then. What's troubling you?"

"There's an extensive list of things troubling me but I'll start with the one most important to you" Amy took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant, Paul. I'm three weeks." Amy whispered.

"Really?!" Paul couldn't hide his excitement despite the implications behind the pregnancy. A child out of wedlock was already frowned upon in such a small town, add Paul's job description as the town's vicar and you've got a scandal. Paul didn't seem to care about that but his smile began to fade when he noticed how unexcited Amy was by the news. "You're going to keep it, right?" He asked, remembering the breakdown she had weeks and weeks back.

"I want to want it but I don't" Amy's voice was uncharacteristically small.

"Don't say that." Paul replied.

"My heart still aches for Melody." Amy looked up at the vicar. "My heart doesn't have room for another baby."

"We'll make room." Paul took her hand.

"No, you can't tell me how to feel." Pond stood up. "I have to carry this life inside me and it's going to be feeding off me and breathing off me, sharing my blood!"

"All while you're still grieving..." Paul replied with a heavy sigh. He understood but wished she could see it the way he did.

"I can't let Melody go, I can't." Amy whispered as she sat back down beside him and began to cry.

"No one's telling you to let her go..." Paul stopped himself from sounding like he was telling her how to feel again. "I'm sorry... I know it's completely up to you, but can I give my opinion?" Pond shook her head yes and he continued. "Life is a gift and maybe you should accept this gift even if you don't feel like you want it yet. God's given you this life and you may not agree with it. But God doesn't give us what we want, he gives us what we need."

"That's what they said last time." Amy looked up at Paul, his eyes begging for her to keep his child. He was trying so hard not to cry. She could see it so clearly, his feelings always floated to the surface so easily. She'd seen so much death in her line of work, maybe this was her chance to let someone live.

"Just think about it, please." Paul took her hands in his again. "I would be so eternally grateful to you, Amy. If you... " Paul sighed. "I'm so sorry... I put you in this position, it's my fault.."

"Well, I'm just as much at fault as you." Amy half smiled.

"So, you'll think about it?" The vicar smiled.

"Yeah." Amy finally smiled. She knew he wouldn't leave her side like the last one did. Whatever happened, she could tell Paul was the sort of man to see her through this. Amy had been avoiding looking at her email all week. She was afraid of what they'd discovered in Tom's laptop. That was the other thing on her list of troubles. The last thing Pond wanted was for some strange secret to ruin Oswald's family. She cared for Clara as much as she cared for Paul. When Pond finally got the info from the computer, she called Tom to come in with his dad to talk about the stolen laptop without telling Oswald.

"There's something going on, isn't there? There's something you're hiding from me." Oswald stopped in front of Pond so she couldn't walk past her in the hall at work. "Tell me what you're big secret is."

"You're a detective, right? Figure it out." Pond pushed past her.

"We're supposed to be partners!" Clara yelled as Pond walked down the hall. "You can't keep secrets from me!"

To keep Clara's scent off the interview with her son, Pond decided to spill the secret of her pregnancy to her. That would satisfy her need to know something. "You're what? How... with who?"

"I only ever talk to two people in this god forsaken town, and it's definitely not yours." Pond walked away again, leaving Clara with her mouth half open in amazement.

Clara worried a little. The vicar was a good man but he was a bit impulsive. He hid it better than Pond and certainly had better people skills, but the idea of them together raising a child sounded rocky. She wanted to go straight to the church and make him swear to keep her safe, but she was given the task of keeping Nigel under surveillance. He and his mother were let go but they were still the most suspicious of the bunch.

While Clara as busy following Nige, Pond was sitting across from Tom and his father, Joe. "What happened to your laptop, Tom?" Pond began her interrogation.

"My computer got nicked at school." Tom replied.

Pond sighed. "You really shouldn't lie to me, Tom." She reached under her chair to pull out the broken laptop sealed in a large plastic bag. "Paul Coates said you threatened to accuse him of all sorts of shenanigans if he turned this in to the police."

"You threatened the vicar?" Joe asked surprised.

Pond looked at Joe and smirked. Then she looked back at Oswald's son. "So why'd you try to destroy this, Tom?"


	21. Someone Who Understands Him

Tom could see now that he'd been caught in a lie and resigned himself to the truth. "The laptop has all the emails I sent to Danny on it."

Pond took out a folder filled with papers. They were printed copies of Tom's messages to Danny. "These were stored on your server. We'd never seen these emails before because they were under a different email address than the one Danny used on his home computer."

"He sent those through his phone." Tom explained.

"Yes and you're the only person he contacted through that email." Pond flipped through some more papers. "Sorry, you and one other person." Pond scanned their reactions, Tom seemed surprised. It was safe to assume he didn't know about the second contact. "Now, if you could explain, Tom. In some of these emails, Danny sounds a bit upset and tells you to stay away from him. He says he doesn't want to see you again and that you're no longer friends. Why would he say that?"

Tom's face turned red. "Danny said he'd found a new friend." His voice cracked a little. "Someone who understood him better than me."

"Well, you were very angry to hear that, weren't you, Tom." Pond flipped to some highlighted papers. "Says here you wrote, 'I wish you were dead. I could kill you if I wanted to' "

"For God's sake!" Joe cut in. "You don't honestly think...? They're just two kids fighting online."

"Did you have anything at all to do with Danny's death, Tom?" Pond asked softly.

"Oh, come on!" Joe cut in again.

"I'm talking to your son, not you." Pond shot him a look.

"No, I really don't know anything about what happened." Tom replied.

"There are serious consequences for people who lie to me." Pond looked up at Joe.

"That's enough." Joe took his son's hand. "If you're going to talk to my son like that, we need to speak with a solicitor."

Pond nodded for them to leave. "One more thing." She added while they were half way out the door. "I'll need both your shoe sizes."

"Five." Tom replied.

"Ten." Joe scoffed and walked out with his son.

Pond wanted to run to Clara and hold her, to tell her everything would be ok. She had enough evidence but she wanted to soften the blow somehow for Clara. Pond sat and waited for the other shoe to drop. It fell the next day when Clara came running into Pond's office.

"Danny's mobile phone! It's on!" Clara said. "We're tracing the call."

"I'll take care of that." Pond quickly stood up. "Nigel Carter is still on the suspect list, keep your eye on him and see if he's acting suspicious. Whoever is calling is probably the killer or someone trying to distract us." With a heavy heart, Pond stood from her desk and walked past Clara. Slowly she turned around before she walked out the door. "Um.. Oswald... You've done very good work on this case. Well done." Pond quickly walked out after her compliment and left Clara with a bewildered expression in her office.

She wanted to be the one to catch the killer. If Pond believed she'd gone good work on the case, why did it feel like she was pushing her aside to do the busy work? Clara didn't believe Nigel really had anything to do with the case and she was being sent on a wild goose chase. Even so, she did as Pond said and sat outside the Carter house in her police vehicle.

Pond followed the coordinates of the phone that was attempting to call Danny's phone. She walked out into the middle of the field between the church and the Latimer house. Down the road was the Oswald house, standing right where the dot on Pond's GPS was. She walked to the Oswald house and turned the knob on the front door. The door was opened and she walked right into the living room. Tom was sitting watching TV. "Um.. Hello" He said, confused to see Pond.

Pond simply nodded and continued to follow her tracking device. She walked out into the Oswald's backyard and into the shed by the garden. Joe stood staring at the ground with the mobile in his hand. "I'm tired of hiding." He whispered.

Joe was brought back to the station and questioned while Clara Oswald was away. "What was the exact nature of your relationship with Danny Latimer?" Pond interrogated her best friend's husband.

"I was in love with him." Joe replied.

Amelia Pond was trying to hide her disgust. Not that she hadn't worked such cases in the past, but to imagine Clara and the heartbreaking news she would soon be forced to give her. "When did this relationship with Danny start?"

"It lasted 9 months." Joe was holding back tears. "Mark had gotten angry with Danny and gave him a split lip. He ran to our house to see Tom. I patched him up and we started talking. After that he came around a lot to play with Tom but he'd always come around to find me to talk later. He said he could never talk to his dad the way he talked to me. After that, we started to meet just the two of us without Tom. He needed me."

"Where did Clara think you were on those nights?" A burning rage grew behind Pond's eyes. She was trying so hard to maintain her composure. To think Joe hurt his friend in such a way, it made her want to pounce.

"The pub, jogging, cycling.. Whatever lie worked." Joe shrugged.

"Did you touch him." Pond glared.

"No. no.." Joe started to cry. "All I ever did was hold him. He sat on my lap and we hugged each other."

"How long did the hugs last?" Pond asked.

"Why does it matter?" Joe could hardly speak through the tears.

"Every detail matters. I need to understand." Pond raised her voice.

Joe raised his voice to match hers. He yelled, "If I can't even understand it then why should you!?"


	22. I'm Not That Kind Of Man

"It was you that night at the hut. You sent me to the hospital with a concussion." Pond crossed her arms.

"I was calling to turn myself in. But when I saw Clara was with you, I panicked." Joe spoke through his tears. "Does Clara know yet?"

"Not yet." Pond was going to have to break the news to Clara sooner or later. "Is that what you do when you panic, Joe? You resort to violence? You slam people's heads against metal bars? You crush little boys windpipes when they threaten to go blabbing about your little secret visits?"

"He said he wasn't going to meet me anymore. That he knew what I really wanted." Joe wiped the tears away and best he could while handcuffed.

"What did you really want, Joe?" Pond asked.

"I'm not that kind of man!" Joe's eyes grew angry merely at the suggestion. He was sent to a holding cell while Pond tried to find the right way to reveal the news to Clara. She'd sent Clara out on a slightly useless steakout to distract her for as long as possible. But she finally had to call her back to the station.

"I've tailed him all day and I really don't think Nigel has anything to do with this." Clara sat down. "Why are we meeting in an interrogation room instead of your office?" She watched in wide eyed confusion as Pond sat on the opposite side of the interrogation table.

"It's not Nigel." Amy replied. "I need to ask you a few questions." She took a deep breath before continuing, her chest felt like it might collapse with the weight her heart was carrying. "Where were you the night of Danny's death?"

"Sorry, what?" Clara scoffed. "Am I being interrogated?"

"I'll explain in a minute. Just answer the question." Amy sounded colder than she'd planned. As was the usual case with her.

"So you think it was me then?" Clara crossed her arms.

"Please, just answer this for me." Amy's eyes began to water. "Please, Clara."

"Don't call me that." Clara whispered. It was the first time Amy had called her anything but Oswald.

"Where were you the night Danny died?" Amy asked again.

"I was at home. We'd just gotten back from our vacation that morning. I went to bed early. My jet lag was terrible so I took these pills that knocked me right out." Clara explained.

"Around what time did you fall asleep?" Amy asked.

"8 o'clock." Clara replied growing increasingly frustrated. "Are you going to tell me why you're doing this now?"

"Did you ever see Joe come to bed that night?" Amy asked.

"No! Now tell me what's going on!" Clara slammed the table with her hand. "I'm not answering anymore questions until you explain why I'm being interrogated!"

Amy Pond stood and slowly walked over to Clara's side of the table. She knelt down beside Clara and took her hand. "It was Joe. Joe killed Danny."

Clara quickly took her hand away from Amy. "No, he didn't." She started to shiver at the thought. Tears started building up behind her eyes. It was true that she never saw him come home. She'd been asleep all night. He fit the discription, same height and build to the man seen at the scene. Her stomach turned at the realisation. Clara quickly stood up and ran to the restroom across the hall.

"Oswald!" Pond ran after Clara.

"It's not him! Tell me it's not him!" Clara winced and fell to her knees beside a toilet.

"He confessed to it. He's in custody." Amy knelt beside Clara

"I want to see him." Clara whispered.

"Are you sure?" Amy wiped Clara's face. "You don't have to." She brushed Clara's hair back. How much she'd grown to care for Clara. How much she wanted to protect her from the pain. Clara insisted on being taken to his holding cell. He was still in handcuffs, his eyes red from crying.

"Is it true?" Clara slowly walked into his cell.

"I... just know I never touched him... I ... I've always loved you..." Joe replied.

"He was eleven!" Clara burst into a fit of rage and pounced. She pushed him to the ground and kicked him as she screamed. Police had to drag her out of the cell as she continued kicking and screaming down the hall. Amy covered her face as tears fell at the sound of Clara's wailing. She ran to the church.

"Amy?" Reverend Coates noticed the fear Pond was trying to hide. "Have you been crying? What's happened?" He put a comforting arm around Amy and sat her down at a pew. He sat beside her and took her hand.

"A man's confessed to Danny's murder." Pond replied quietly.

"Someone we know?" Paul asked.

"It's Joe." Amy rested her hard on Paul's shoulder. "I don't know what's going to happen to Clara. She nearly killed him when she found out. We had to pry her off him in the police station." Amy wiped a stray tear from her cheek. "He deserved it. But Clara, she shouldn't have to go through all this."

"All this time she never knew it was him?" Paul replied. "How could she not know?"

"Love makes you blind." Amy stood up and took a step back. "Why do you think I try so hard to steer clear of it? I need my wits about me and I will not put myself in the position Clara finds herself in now. You can't trust anyone."

"Well, you seem to trust Clara." Paul stood up, slightly irritated that Amy seemed closer to Clara then to him. "You assume she had nothing to do with the crimes her husband committed on what grounds exactly? On the grounds that she's your friend? I'm not saying I believe she did know. I'm only saying that you are not impervious to the full spectrum of human emotions. No matter how superior to them you pretend to be."


	23. Physical Contact

"You'll never see her as guilty. Even though an outsider would look at her as a probable accomplice, you have no inkling that she had anything to do with it because she's your friend." Paul was becoming increasingly emotional. "You thought I had something to do with it for ages."

"I didn't know you well enough yet." Amy raised her voice to match his. Their argument echoed in the empty sanctuary. "I know now that I was wrong."

Paul took a deep breath. "Tell me you've made a decision."

"Now's not the time." Amy began to walk away but Paul took her hand. Amy turned around and jerked her hand away. "I have to help Clara."

Paul lowered his head. "Alright, I agree you should be there for Clara. But it's my child too and last we spoke of it... it sounded..."

"You'll be a good father. I know you will. But I haven't quite convinced myself that I'll be a very good mother." With that, Amy ran out of the sanctuary in search of Clara.

Clara had moved herself and her two sons into a little motel room while they figured out their next move. She hadn't been able to fully explain it to Tom yet, only that something was wrong with dad. Fred was only a baby, hardly 2 years old. But Tom was 12, old enough to know better. She couldn't come up with any lies to protect him from the truth. She sat down beside her eldest son and took his hand in hers.

"We found out who killed Danny, sweetheart." Clara's voice cracked. "It was your dad." They held each other as they began to cry. "Tom, I have to ask.." Clara wiped the tears away. "Why did you send those mean emails to Danny?"

Tom spoke through sniffles. "He said he didn't want to be my friend anymore and I was angry. He said he'd found a new friend. That new friend was dad, wasn't it?"

Clara shook her head yes as they tried to stop the tears from flowing. A knock on the door made her quickly jump to her feet. It was Clara's sister and her nephew, Ollie. They'd come with a box full of toys for the kids. Ollie suggested taking Tom out for a while to have a little fun and take their mind off their troubles. Clara agreed as she looked at her phone to see a text from Amy. She wanted a moment to speak to her alone.

Amy ran in and scooped Clara up into an unexpected hug. She'd never made any real physical contact with her in all their time together. They sat at the edge of the bed together and talked for 2 hours without realizing how much time had passed.

"There's just something I don't understand." Clara sighed. "He said he was in love with Danny but never actually touched him. Does that make him a pedophile or not?"

"Why do we need to put his sexuality in a category?" Amy replied.

"It's the only way I can make sense of things." Clara explained.

"Just because he never got the chance to doesn't mean he wouldn't have later on." Amy sighed and took Clara's hand comfortingly. "I wish I had the answers. At the end of the day, people are unknowable. You can never truly know what's going on in someone's heart."

Clara rested her head on Amy's shoulder. "I should have suspected something. Clara Oswald, the brilliant copper sleeping next to the killer she was searching for the whole time." Clara stood up in frustration. "I honestly want to kill him. Does that make me a bad person?"

"Not completely, no." Amy replied.

"All along you told me not to trust anyone." Clara scoffed and stood up. She looked out the motel window and saw Paul pacing back and forth outside under a street light. "What have you done to Reverend Coates?"

"What?" Amy stood up to look outside. "Oh, he's waiting for an answer."

"Did he ask you to marry him?" Clara gasped excitedly.

"Not exactly." Amy sat back down. "He asked if I was keeping it and I said I wasn't sure. I'm scared it'll end in heartbreak."

"You can't allow yourself a moment of happiness, can you?" Clara nudged her. "You love him, right?"

"I actually do, to be honest. It's terrifying." Amy replied.

Clara chuckled. "Alright, so what's stopping you?"

"You lived 12 years with a man while never knowing what he was capable of." Amy took Clara's hand. "Yet you still believe that love conquers all."

"I assume you think that makes me stupid." Clara replied.

"No, it makes you braver than I'll ever be." Amy gave Clara a soft kiss on the cheek and walked out without saying another word. Clara sat back down and touched her cheek where Amy had kissed her. She felt a sudden giddiness; like the spark of something. It was always hard to decipher Amy's true feelings. Clara wondered, had they made some sort of connection? The feeling surprised Clara at first. She'd had a girlfriend in college but shrugged it off as a phase. Was Clara just projecting her feelings onto Amy now that she was alone and in desperate need of comfort? Clara chuckled at the thought. It had been Amy who'd said not to put someone's sexuality in a category.

Amy walked outside and took Paul by the arm. She opened the back door of her car and had him sit. Amy sat beside him and slammed the door behind them. "I'm scared because I've lost one before and I'm scared it'll happen again." She confessed.

"You won't be alone this time." Paul took her hand.

"Promise?" Amy dropped her defenses. Her eyes watered.

"I promise." Paul replied. He leaned in and kissed her passionately. Pond grabbed at his sleeves; drawing him in. Paul chuckled softly between kisses. He felt like a teenage kid snogging in the backseat of Amy's car.


End file.
